


shifter

by vonseal



Series: magic users [3]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Magic-Users, Romance, this will be pretty long, will update tags as i go on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-10-31 23:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 70,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal
Summary: Sanha knows he can't take on the world. Minhyuk decides to make him, anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn't know you were a magic user,” Minhyuk finally commented, but he didn't look up to meet Sanha's stare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE SOCKY FIC YOU GUYS ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR !!!! there's a lengthy plot in this one, too, enjoy lol.

Talking was something that came naturally to Sanha. His parents swore that ever since he was born, he was talking.

(“Even when I was a _baby?_ ” he asked his father, swinging from his arms one day.

His father chuckled and swung Sanha higher, earning himself a squeal of delight. “Even as a baby!” his father responded.)

His parents liked to joke that Sanha would talk the ears off of anyone he met, and Sanha always assumed it was true, but then Park Minhyuk moved in next door.

For a while, the space had been occupied by just Myungjun. Sanha remembered the day he moved in, hoisting the boxes up the stairs by himself and looking quite exhausted. Sanha's father was the first one to reach over and grab one of the boxes for him, his uniform still on from a long day of working at the police station. “Let me help you,” Sanha's father offered, and Myungjun's tired eyes grew wide as he looked over the older man.

“I-I've got it!” Myungjun exclaimed, and he tugged the box away from Sanha's father, who stared at Myungjun in confusion. “It's alright, I've got all of-of this.”

But he dropped the box while fumbling with his door, and Sanha heard glass shatter.

His father was back, kneeling down to examine what exactly broke. He had pulled out a picture frame, the glass shards falling around it in pieces, and held it over to Myungjun apologetically. “Is that your family?” he had asked.

Myungjun had burst into tears.

Sanha's parents both took action. Myungjun was invited into their home, despite his insistence that he was fine, and he was seated at the kitchen table, where Sanha watched him curiously.

Myungjun had bags under his eyes and he was incredibly skinny and he kept sniffling. Sanha felt bad for him.

“I have a frame you can put your picture in,” was the first thing Sanha ever said to Myungjun.

Myungjun looked over at him, blinking back his tears, and took a shuddering breath. “You do?”

Sanha nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yeah! I mean, I bought it because I thought it would fit a picture I have, but my mom got me a better one for it.” He stood from his seat and tapped the table. “If you wait right here, I can go grab it, alright?”

And he didn't wait for a response – he _had_ to cheer Myungjun up _somehow_ , and so he hurried off, grabbing his picture frame and stumbling on his race back to the kitchen, where his mother had just set down a plate of cookies in front of Myungjun.

(Myungjun had seemed shocked, as if unaccustomed to such kindness, and Sanha wondered how terrible his life must have been to not even be used to people fawning over him.)

“Here!” Sanha announced proudly, and he carefully stored Myungjun's photo inside the empty frame. “Now it's perfect.” He handed it back, but not without staring at the image for a few seconds. “Is that you as a kid?”

Myungjun swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

“I can tell. You have the same lips and nose.” He plopped back down in his seat and stole one of the cookies off of Myungjun's plate. “Are those two your parents? They look so nice!”

“They are,” Myungjun murmured.

_Are_. Not _were_. Which meant his parents were still alive, which Sanha assumed made them a great conversation piece. “You look a lot like your mother, you know! I mean, you two have similar eyes and everything.”

Myungjun stuffed a cookie in his mouth, presumably so he wouldn't have to answer.

“And look how cute you are in this picture! Gosh, I bet your parents are so lucky to have a son like you!”

Apparently, he sucked at cheering people up, because his words did the _exact_ opposite of that. Myungjun began crying again, sobbing as he finished chewing up his cookie, and Sanha's mother hurried back into the room.

“What did you say to him?” she had snapped at Sanha, her eyes brimming with worry for this stranger.

“I didn't – I just told him that his parents are lucky!”

Myungjun was bawling now, shaking his head, and as Sanha's mother hugged him close, he managed to stammer out, “I-I'm the _worst son ever_ , I wish I was _de-dead!_ I wish my par-parents _hated me!_ I-I wish I was ne-never born!”

Sanha stared at Myungjun in shock as this new neighbor cried and cried until he was out of tears. Sanha's mother offered him another cookie, and Myungjun shook his head. He _did_ sip at the milk he had been given, hiccuping into it every so often.

Finally, after an hour or two of Myungjun's unresponsive company, the older boy stood from his seat and bowed deeply to the Yoon family. “I'm sorry,” he muttered, and he clutched his frame close to him as he straightened again. “I won't be like this from now on.”

And he stuck true to his word. The next time he saw Sanha, he smiled nervously. “Sorry about, um, about the other day,” he apologized again. “It's just been rough-”

“It's okay!” Sanha responded brightly, waiting for his mother to exit the apartment as well. “I know how difficult life can be sometimes!”

“It sucks ass, doesn't it?”

Unfortunately, Sanha's mother had chosen that moment to finally close the door behind her, and it was clear that the only thing she heard out of the conversation was _it sucks ass_. Her lips tightened and she quickly moved to cover Sanha's ears. “Did you hear that?” she asked her son frantically.

Sanha learned it was best sometimes to pretend he was as innocent as she believed him to be, and so he shook his head. “Hear what?” he asked.

Sanha's mom didn't like Myungjun after that. “He's crude!” she would complain when Sanha asked her _why_ she wasn't fond of him. “And he says so many things my Sanha should not be hearing!”

But Sanha didn't care. He _liked_ Myungjun. The more he got to know Myungjun, the more cheerful the elder of the two became, until he was just a mess of laughter and jokes. He was interesting and exuberant and Sanha tried explaining as such to his mother.

“He's like a big brother to me,” he finally mentioned, and his mother looked pained at that.

“You _have_ a big brother, Sanha.”

“He doesn't ever talk to me, though.” Sanha pouted lightly, and then muttered, “He hates me because I'm a magic user, doesn't he?”

Sanha's father cleared his throat before patting Sanha's back. “He'll come around,” the man replied, trying to keep up the cheerful atmosphere. “One day, maybe.”

But his father didn't sound convinced, and so Sanha wasn't going to expect anything. Myungjun filled the void, in any case, even if Sanha's mother became even _more_ wary around him after he came home one night, too drunk to figure out how to unlock his door, and requested that he spend the night on Sanha's bed.

(Sanha's father was left to deal with that, as Sanha's mother complained how _terrible_ of an influence Myungjun was.)

Myungjun never seemed to have any friends, though. In any case, he was the only one who ever entered or exited the apartment, so when Sanha heard the door open one morning, he hurried over to it in excitement, ready to show off the high score he had gotten on an exam. “Hyung!” he exclaimed. “Hyung, look!”

But when the door closed and the man turned around, Sanha realized it wasn't Myungjun. It was someone who looked just slightly younger, yet slightly taller, with brown hair parted down the middle and an amused expression on his face.

“Am I Hyung?” the boy asked, and Sanha lost his breath. He had a deeper voice, yet it was somehow so soft and charming.

(Sanha wondered if he was a witch.)

“N-No...I thought – did Myungjun-hyung move?”

“Myung-? No, he still lives here. I just...I'm his roommate now.” The boy held out a hand and smiled. “I'm Park Minhyuk.”

He had bruises on his cheeks, now that Sanha was staring openly at him, and there was a small cut above his eyebrow. Sanha wondered if this Minhyuk character had gotten in a fight before. Whatever the case, he was waiting for Sanha to shake his hand, but Sanha felt his heart race. This man was _gorgeous_ , handsome and manly and too good for Sanha to even _touch_ probably. Sanha felt his nerves acting up, and he had to escape as quickly as possible, before his magic got the better of him.

So he slammed his door in Minhyuk's face.

From then on, the two hardly spoke. Sanha would try sometimes, but when he did, Minhyuk would strike up a conversation with whoever was closest to him (including, once before, a tree). And sometimes _Minhyuk_ would try to talk to Sanha, but Sanha would dart away hurriedly, his mind refusing himself the chance to make a fool of himself in front of such an amazing person.

At the very least, Sanha's mom liked Minhyuk. “He might make a good impression on Myungjun,” she mused one day as Sanha worked on his homework. “Because goodness knows Myungjun needs it. He's a mess.”

(Sanha decided to hide to his mother that he once witnessed Myungjun dragging home a drunk Minhyuk, and the drunk Minhyuk groped and fondled with Myungjun's butt – Myungjun had simply spotted Sanha and tiredly asked, “Do you want to help me take him to a dump? He belongs there.”)

At the very least, he could thank his lucky stars that neither of them were aware of his magical status. He managed to keep it a secret until the moment Myungjun's boyfriend was revealed to be a witch and Minhyuk was revealed to have a _very_ nice body. Honestly, the witch thing left Sanha's mind the moment Minhyuk came running out of Myungjun's bathroom, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from his hair, some of it rolling down his chest as he frantically called out, “Myungjun? Myungjun are you-”

He would have gotten the chance to continue had Sanha not screamed right then. He moved his hands up to cover his eyes as his heart beat frantically in his chest, and in order to hide the fact that he was staring at Minhyuk's abs, he did what he promised his parents he would never do – he shapeshifted in front of three of his neighbors.

They all were amazed, and rightfully so, as his human body disappeared. Fortunately, none of them noticed the little cockroach scurrying across the floor. Sanha moved away from their seeking eyes, wondering just how the heck he was supposed to escape from _this_ mess he had caused. Worry gripped at his heart as he hid underneath the couch. Could he explain this? Could he hurry home and beg his parents to move to England or France or somewhere _far_ away, where no one was aware that he was a magic user?

But Myungjun caught on the moment he was found. And Myungjun comforted him, just as Sanha had tried comforting him all those years ago.

Ultimately, though, the witch broke Myungjun's glasses, and Myungjun was fantastic at pouting, so Minhyuk had to take over the comforting job – which made everything very _un_ comfortable, honestly.

They sat outside a small convenience store. Minhyuk had bought ramen for the two of them, but neither of them seemed ready to eat.

“I didn't know you were a magic user,” Minhyuk finally commented, but he didn't look up to meet Sanha's stare.

“Yeah,” Sanha murmured quietly. “I wasn't supposed to do that. Sometimes, I just...I can't control it, sometimes, when I get really, really nervous like that.”

Minhyuk cleared his throat. “So, um...was it...?” He gestured to his wet hair and whispered, “Me?”

Could Sanha _really_ claim that Minhyuk made him nervous? He wasn't ready to confess, especially with the knowledge that Minhyuk most likely didn't feel the same way, so he quickly shook his head. “I-It was, um, the whole _witch_ thing, 'cause Myungjun is, um...da-dating a witch. I guess.”

“Oh.” There was slight disappointment in Minhyuk's tone, but before Sanha could wonder why, the older boy continued, “I don't think they're actually dating, though. Not yet, anyway.”

At least the conversation was away from Minhyuk's half-naked body. Sanha could do this. “Do you think they'll start dating?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I'm pretty certain there's _something_ already going on, since Jinwoo blushes whenever I mention how close they sit together.” Minhyuk snorted and finally began twirling his chopstick into his noodles. “Myungjun's been pining after him for a while, though.”

“And Myungjun's a _necromancer?_ ”

Minhyuk nodded.

“I thought necromancers were evil. Witches, too. But I know Myungjun isn't evil, and his boyfriend doesn't seem evil.” Sanha pondered it for a few seconds before asking, “Did you know that Myungjun was a necromancer?”

“Yeah.” Minhyuk slurped at his noodles before responding, “I grew up with him, back in Jinju. He, um...wasn't well-liked. Everyone knew, and life seriously sucked for him. He didn't even tell me all that went on, but I know it wasn't good. He finally left, because his parents were suffering from _his_ magical powers. Which he's an idiot for, because his parents missed him, and still probably do miss him.”

Sanha couldn't imagine leaving his own parents. He felt pity for Myungjun's mother and father. “When he first moved in,” Sanha muttered, “he cried because a picture frame broke. It was him and his mom and his dad. And he cried again when I mentioned how much they loved him, from what I saw of the picture. He said...he wished he was dead.”

Minhyuk sighed loudly, but he didn't stop eating his noodles.

“I never realized...I mean, I thought maybe he was just a little scared to be in a new place.”

“Part of me thinks he still wishes he wasn't born,” Minhyuk muttered.

Sanha bit down on his bottom lip and stuck one of his chopsticks in his bowl of noodles. “People don't like necromancers, do they?”

“They probably don't like shapeshifters, either.”

Sanha whined out and grabbed the juice box in front of him. “I can't help that, though! And, besides, no one other than my parents and you guys know I'm a shapeshifter! As long as we keep it between ourselves, I won't have people being mean to me, right?”

Minhyuk glanced up from his noodles and shook his head slowly. “I won't tell,” he promised. “And...and you know Myungjun won't, and Jinwoo won't. I mean, they don't have anyone to tell, anyway, I guess, but they'd never let anyone else know. Both of them know what it's like to live in fear.”

Sanha knew far too well. He knew the feeling of his friends discussing magic users after school sometimes, vowing to beat up any they came across, and recruiting _him_ to do the same. He knew the feeling of trying to laugh about those kids that _were_ beat up for their magic, while trying to hide his sympathy and guilt. He knew the feeling of being ashamed for who he was, envying all of the normal people in the world.

And he envied Minhyuk.

“You're...you're normal, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then how come you're friends with Myungjun and Myungjun's boyfriend? Most normal people wouldn't get ten feet near a necromancer, and most normal people would probably call the police if they saw a witch.”

Minhyuk swallowed some of his noodles. “While we're on the subject of police,” he started (ignoring Sanha's original question), “don't tell your dad what Jinwoo is, okay? He might be okay with Myungjun being a necromancer, but if he founds out we have a _witch_ living with us, he'd totally freak.”

Sanha wondered if his dad would care. Certainly, he had been told to stay away from witches, but Jinwoo seemed nice and pleasant enough. Surely his dad wouldn't hold so many prejudices against Jinwoo, would he?

But Minhyuk was staring at him with such a serious gaze, and Sanha's cheeks flushed as he looked away and nodded his head. “I won't tell,” he promised.

Minhyuk relaxed. “Good. Jinwoo's a weak witch, anyway. Seriously, all he does is kill flowers, and Myungjun just sits around bringing them back to life. They always joke that Jinwoo sucks at keeping things alive and Myungjun sucks at keeping things dead.”

“Does he bring a lot of stuff back to life?” Sanha asked, slightly in awe of such incredible powers. “Like...has he ever brought a _human_ back to life?”

Minhyuk was biting the inside of his cheek with that question, and Sanha realized it might be a touchy subject. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “You don't have to-”

“Jinwoo.”

“What?” Sanha blinked.

“Jinwoo...he, um-”

“Wait-” Minhyuk didn't even need to say anything else. Suddenly, Sanha understood. “My dad...my dad said – the witch who got killed? _That_ was Jinwoo?” When Minhyuk slowly nodded his head in confirmation, Sanha gasped. “But...but my dad said that the government has the bodies, and the public isn't supposed to know-”

“Just keep up that lie, then,” Minhyuk interrupted nervously, glancing around to ensure no passerbyers were listening into their conversation. “I don't know _how_ the police know, because there was no body. Myungjun just brought him back to life.”

“My dad said that the two detectives told everyone that there _was_ a dead witch, and they called the government.”

“Two...?” Minhyuk blinked, but suddenly he brightened considerably. “Never mind, then, just keep believing what your dad told you!”

“But you just said-”

“Man, I'm full. Might be time to go home now.” Minhyuk stood from his seat quickly, then gestured for Sanha to do the same. “And this all falls on the list of things you will _never_ mention to Myungjun. _Never, ever_. Got it?”

Even when he was trying to look intimidating, Sanha thought Minhyuk was really cute and handsome. He giggled as he stood and nodded his head. “I won't mention it,” he swore, then placed a hand on his heart. “The secret is safe in here!”

“Good.” Minhyuk grabbed their trash to throw it away, and the two boys began their walk home. Occasional conversation was made, though far more by Sanha than by Minhyuk (he would point up at the stars and wonder how far away they were, he would point out a stray cat and comment on how cute it was, and he would gesture to the nicer, finer apartments they passed and imagine what it would be like to be rich). Minhyuk was a good listener, though – never once did Sanha feel like he was talking to thin air.

He quite liked Minhyuk's company, and by the time they arrived at their respective homes, he didn't really _want_ to part. But Minhyuk was already working on unlocking his own door, after having knocked several times, grumbling about “Myungjun and Jinwoo had better not be kissing and forgetting me out here.” And Sanha just watched, unsure of what to say to end their short time spent together. He supposed apologies were in order, for lying about his identity and also for earlier that day, when he totally looked at Minhyuk when he shouldn't have.

“Got it,” Minhyuk finally said, unlocking his door, and he looked over at Sanha. “Don't beat yourself up too much over the whole shapeshifting thing, because-”

“I'm sorry I looked at you when you were half-naked and kept staring because I liked it!” Sanha blurted out.

Minhyuk's eyes were wide, but Sanha was sure his own eyes were even wider. “Oh my god!” he squeaked, slapping a hand over his mouth. “I'm sorry, I'm-!” He tried his door, and when he found his mother had left it unlocked, he hurried inside, ignoring Minhyuk's small, “Sanha?” as he slammed the door shut behind him.

And then he groaned, running his fingers through his already-messy hair and berating himself completely for acting like such a fool.

(And he also wondered if he could consider their ramen noodle outing as a date – a date that he completely screwed up.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we havent gotten to the plot yet. just a bit of the set-up. according to my notes, second chapter MIGHT have the plot introduced, but it's far more likely it'll come in during the third chapter.
> 
> send me those fancy 2-dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) bc i collect those and they look swell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stranger just behind Sanha gave a snort and mumbled, “Cockroach.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh, if you're reading this and haven't read through elementary, stop. read through elementary. otherwise, it legit won't make sense.

If one were to ask Sanha what he thought of Moon Bin, it would be a simple answer of, “Who's that?” Which was why it was so concerning to the younger boy when Moon Bin _clearly_ seemed to know exactly who he was.

“Sanha!” this strange man hissed his name as Sanha walked out of class with a few friends. “Sanha, come here!”

He had seemed vaguely familiar, but when Sanha's friend whispered, “Do you know him?” all Sanha could do was shrug his shoulders.

And so he kept walking. After all, his mother always informed him how dangerous it was to speak with strangers, and Sanha definitely wasn't in the mood to be kidnapped. He thought that turning his back on the stranger would perhaps deter him, but that wasn't the case.

“Sanha!” he was closer now, his voice tinged with irritation. “Sanha, if you don't stop walking, I'm going to blurt out your big, dark secret.”

Sanha _did_ stop then, and he gripped the straps of his backpack. His friends, too, stopped and looked back at him. “Sanha?” one of them questioned as Sanha struggled with whether or not he _should_ turn around. Perhaps it was all a trick. After all, he had been careful with his powers recently, so how on earth should anybody know his big, dark secret?

“Sanha?” the friend repeated, snapping a finger in front of Sanha's face. “He's got a secret about you?”

Sanha was pretty certain his panic was quite readable – at least, he had always been told that when he was frightened, his eyes would widen considerably.

“O-Of course he doesn't,” Sanha responded with a giggle, trying to act as if everything was fine. “I...I have no secrets!”

The stranger just behind Sanha gave a snort and mumbled, “Cockroach.”

Finally, Sanha spun around and grabbed the man's arm in a panic. “Don't!” he whispered, and when the man seemed to catch onto Sanha's fear, he nodded.

“I won't,” he promised, and Sanha started to relax, but then - “Only if I get your help on something.”

His friends were waiting and Sanha was staring back at the man, who he then recognized as someone Myungjun introduced to him as _'Bin over there is-'_ but Sanha really hadn't been paying attention right then, on account of actually turning into a roach in front of a half-naked Minhyuk.

Whatever the case, there was literally no reason for this _Bin_ guy to be asking for his help, especially not when blackmailing was involved. Sanha had no choice, however, but to bite down on his lip and glance over at his friends.

“I-I guess I do know him,” he mumbled softly, releasing Bin's arm. “Um...I'll catch up if you guys go on without me.”

They seemed rather unsure, but when they realized Sanha wouldn't change his mind, they nodded and slowly walked off, occasionally looking behind them at the two boys.

Sanha waited until they were all gone before shoving Bin into the closest empty room he could find. Bin didn't seem too shaken up by Sanha's anxiety.

“Wha-What's wrong with you?” Sanha snapped, once he was certain they were alone. “I thought you were friends with Myungjun-hyung! Why are you _threatening_ me?” It wasn't very nice, and Sanha pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and jutting out his lower lip. He didn't deserve this at all!

Bin simply laughed it off, waving his hand as if dismissing Sanha's fear. “I wasn't _really_ going to tell. Did you think I was? That'd be a shitty thing to do, wouldn't it-?”

“I'm leaving,” Sanha snapped, but just as he made his way to the door, Bin blocked it. And while Sanha _was_ much taller, Bin was much stronger, and after a brief struggle, Sanha did have to concede.

Bin stared him down, and Sanha wondered why he was so intimidating. “Are you done yet?”

Sanha looked away – if he couldn't escape, at least he could make it difficult for Bin to do anything.

“Wow, are you _five?_ ”

“I'm nineteen!”

“You could have fooled me.”

Sanha huffed. “Why is Myungjun-hyung friends with _you?_ You're a jerk!”

That brought about more laughter, and Sanha wondered how much trouble he'd get in for punching a stranger. “Myungjun and I aren't friends. I barely know the guy. _Dongmin_ is friends with Myungjun.”

“Who's Dongmin?”

Bin sighed loudly and shook his head. “I can't believe you don't know who Dongmin is. He's only the _coolest_ detective in the entire _world_ , Sanha. He's handsome and smart and tall and has the cutest smile-”

“Oh, a detective. Does he work at the police station?”

“We both do!” Bin announced proudly.

Sanha knew enough about those two from his father. He remembered his father coming home one day, informing Sanha of two detectives from Seoul who were going to help catch and kill a witch. Of course, Sanha _hadn't_ known that witch would be directly tied to Myungjun in some way, and so now he automatically hated both Bin and Dongmin.

Except it didn't make sense why _Myungjun_ didn't hate them.

“Wait...you guys are the ones who called the government on, um...the witch? The dead one those two guys killed, right?” Sanha asked, just to make _certain_ he was hating the right people.

When Bin nodded, Sanha continued with his hate. If Minhyuk hated the killers, Sanha would, too, even if he didn't know Jinwoo that well.

(But besides that, he wondered how much Myungjun had cried, and he wondered if anyone was there to give Myungjun milk and cookies, and he wondered how Bin and Dongmin could live with themselves if they knew they had played a part in making Myungjun cry.)

“We – Dongmin and me – were thinking about giving those two boys a little bit of prize money,” Bin continued. “Except the police aren't supposed to know about this.”

Sanha wasn't sure if Bin was aware that his father worked with them. It didn't appear so, and Sanha shrugged his shoulders. “That's illegal, then.”

“How is giving money to someone illegal?”

Bin had a good point, and Sanha struggled with an answer. “Be-Because...if the police said not to-”

“The police never said we couldn't,” Bin retorted. “It was just something we needed to keep on the down-low. And we need your help to accomplish this.”

“Why do you need _my_ help?” he asked. “I can't do police work! I'm...I'm just a college student, and I'm trying to live a normal life, and-”

“You can shapeshift.”

Sanha felt like someone punched him in the gut. He hated hearing it sometimes. His parents always made sure he never spoke of it, simply because they wanted him to actually live a good life, and even Myungjun's reassurance that it was okay didn't help all that much. Sometimes, he wanted to pretend like he was normal, like it never affected him.

The fact that Bin was able to so readily blurt out that particular curse of Sanha's life made the young boy flinch slightly, though he tried to hide his discomfort. He had to stand tall and be strong through this. If he pretended it didn't bother him, then Bin would probably lose interest.

(That was what his mom told him when he was bullied in primary school, in any case.)

“I need to go,” he muttered, but Bin was still blocking the door.

“You can shapeshift, and Dongmin and I need that for what we're going to be doing.”

“My mom wants me home in an hour, and I won't make it if you don't let me go.”

“I can drive you.” Bin was smiling, and he moved to lean against the doorway. “I think you should probably agree to help us out.”

Sanha sighed. “I'm not going to shapeshift to give anyone _money_. Especially not people who murdered someone.”

“They murdered a witch.”

It was true, though, but now that Sanha had _met_ said witch, he didn't find witches all that rotten and horrible. Jinwoo seemed nice enough, but Sanha barely knew him to really defend his honor, so he simply shrugged.

“Sanha!” Bin had resorted to whining, and Sanha decided he was _definitely_ not going to help Bin. “Come on, _please?_ I think Myungjun would really like it if-”

“Why would Hyung like me giving the people who killed his boyfriend money?” Sanha snapped.

“Well, if you think about it, they didn't _really_ kill him, since Myungjun brought him back, and-”

But the police hadn't known that, as far as Sanha knew. The detectives had been the ones to call the government officials when they found the body of a witch. At least, that's what Sanha's father had told him, and that's what the media reports seemed to confirm. “How did you know Myungjun-hyung brought him back?”

Bin smiled sneakily and whispered, “I am the coolest detective in the _world_ , Sanha-”

“I have to go.”

“No, look, just...” Bin sighed. “Okay, so we just need to shut these boys up from spreading the word. Dongmin has a letter and some money, and we're going to basically pay them off, which is why the police can't know. I mean, the police are the ones celebrating this. But we obviously just can't go straight up to the boys and pay them off in front of people, so we've scouted their place out for a bit and discovered that they keep a window open. It's _very_ high up, and we can't get to it, but all we need _you_ to do is shapeshift into a bird, maybe, and place the envelope with money into the blue backpack.” Bin finished off his request with a nod, expectantly waiting for Sanha's response.

So Sanha gave it to him. “It's still a no.”

“Seriously?” Bin blinked. “Even if it means Myungjun can probably sleep at night without having to hear those media reports?”

That made Sanha hesitate. He imagined what Myungjun must be going through, having to hear his boyfriend's death repeated on the news. And if what Minhyuk said was true, then he had been _there._ He had seen his dead boyfriend in the middle of an empty alleyway.

It was a sad image, and Sanha wanted it to disappear from his memory.

He also wanted Myungjun's pain to go away, so he opened his mouth to agree. The moment he did so, however, Bin also seemed to want to say something, so Sanha closed his mouth and gestured for him to go first.

“I'll tell the entire _world_ that you're a shapeshifter if you don't do this for us!” Bin blurted out suddenly.

Sanha gaped at him. “I was going to agree! Why are you threatening me?”

At least Bin had the decency to look a little regretful of his enthusiasm to out Sanha as a magic user. “Oh. Sorry. I wasn't...I wasn't actually going to. It was just a silly threat.”

“It's not _silly!_ What if someone finds out I'm a magic user?” Sanha groaned and buried his face in the palms of his hands. “And I can't believe I agreed to this! I can't even control my own powers enough to _not_ turn into a cockroach when I see Minhyuk's chest, so how am I supposed to-”

“Wait, what?”

Sanha wished he could turn invisible. That would be nice.

“It's...it's a, um, it's an example of how I can't control how I shift sometimes,” Sanha stammered out. He wondered how red his face was, and he wondered if Bin could stop staring at him like that, thank you very much. “So you want me to turn into a bird, but, uh, but I can't really control it sometimes. I don't shift a lot, and so when I _do_ , I always turn into something weird, or sometimes I shift when I don't even mean to shift.” Sanha cleared his throat. At least he seemed to have succeeded in drawing Bin's attention away from his verbal misstep. “So, um, maybe I'm not the right guy for the job.”

Bin contemplated it for a total of one second before smirking. “Better get practicing, then. We're going to deliver the letter tomorrow.”

“I just said-”

“I'll leave you to it in here,” Bin happily exclaimed, patting Sanha's shoulder. “Try to turn into a crow or something that people won't suspect to be a shifter. Maybe you can do a sparrow? Or a _hawk_ , or one of those American Bald Eagles-”

Sanha groaned and pushed Bin aside. This time, Bin let him go with a chuckle, exclaiming, “I'll see you tomorrow, same time, same place!”

Fortunately, he _had_ been able to turn into a bird, and, _un_ fortunately, he hadn't delivered money. He had explained as much to Minhyuk in his bakery the following afternoon, when he had escaped the confines of housework to seek out a treat (and also to totally see Minhyuk).

Minhyuk acted as if Sanha had _never_ admitted to admiring his naked chest. Instead, Minhyuk had listened to the recap of Sanha's role in framing two boys for drug possession, and when Sanha neared the end of the story, Minhyuk pounded his fist into the counter.

“I'll kill them!” he snapped.

Sanha jumped. “Um...who? Because first you said you'd kill the two murderers, so is it-”

“Bin and Dongmin. I'll kill them!”

“Why?” Sanha asked. He was seated near the counter, chewing on a free cookie Minhyuk had passed over to him (it wasn't as if Sanha had much spending money, so he was grateful for this instance of charity). “I was the one who agreed to it.”

“Even when you _knew_ you'd be delivering drugs?”

Sanha nodded his head, and he moved to say more, but the door opened right then. The two boys looked up to spot a man holding onto a box.

The man didn't say a word; Minhyuk simply waved him off, calling out, “On vacation for a week!”

(Sanha had never seen a bakery customer look so forlorn and disappointed as he left.)

Once the shop was empty again, Sanha pondered the odd exchange. “What was that?”

“Myungjun has a little, uh, _side_ business in the back.” Minhyuk wiggled his eyebrows, trying to appear secretive.

“Oh.” It was interesting that Myungjun was actually able to make money off of his powers. Sanha wished he could do that. (But that would probably involve going to the circus, and even if he got paid for it, he had seen the constant bullying that came with magic usage, regardless of how cool it was.) “I didn't know he did that.”

“You didn't know he was a magic user until a few days ago,” Minhyuk pointed out as he replenished some of the muffins in a display case. “Anyway, I can't _believe_ you agreed to plant drugs in some kid's backpack. What were you thinking? What if your dad finds out, Sanha? What's going to happen if he finds out?”

Sanha shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His cookie was almost gone. He wondered if Minhyuk had milk on hand. Cookies and milk always made everyone feel better when they were sad. “I just...I'm not going to tell him. An-And you won't tell, either, will you?”

“Of course I won't.”

“And then the only other people who know are Dongmin and Bin, and if _they_ tell, they could both lose their jobs. So just...we'll keep it a secret, okay?” Sanha pleaded, and he stuck out his lower lip for good measure, showing off his signature pout.

It seemed to work, if Minhyuk's blush and sudden aversion of his eyes was anything to go by.

“I...I won't tell,” Minhyuk promised, and Sanha rewarded him with a beaming smile. “But, still, Sanha, that was dangerous!”

“I wanted to help Myungjun,” Sanha explained, and Minhyuk looked surprised. “Because...because he used to be so sad, and now he's smiling a lot and I want him to keep that smile on him forever. And-and if he keeps on hearing about how those two boys were heroes, he won't smile much.”

Minhyuk's gaze seemed to soften a bit as he closed the display case once again. “Well...y-you just need to be careful, Sanha.”

“I know.”

“What if someone had seen you?”

“I know.”

Minhyuk sighed loudly and sat down on the stool behind his counter. “We're not going to tell Myungjun about this, are we? Because I think he would throw a fit if he knew Dongmin allowed you to touch drugs. He would throw a fit about the entire situation, honestly, and he'd turn himself in just to prove a point.”

“What point is that?”

“The point that you're a naive idiot.”

“Hey!” Sanha pouted again. He maybe should have never come to the bakery if he knew Minhyuk would just berate him for trying to help a friend. “As long as we don't tell them – Myungjun _or_ Jinwoo – I think both of them will be happier now that those two guys are in jail, don't you?”

It seemed that Minhyuk couldn't very well refute that point, so he simply tightened his lips and messed with his phone. “I just didn't expect you to be doing bad stuff like that.”

“I'm a tough kid, Minhyuk. I'm a _gangster_ now.” And he threw up the peace sign, which was the most gangster pose he could think of. It earned him a small, dimpled smile as Minhyuk looked away.

That was reward enough for everything he had gone through the past couple of days.

“Geez, you're such a moron,” Minhyuk muttered, and Sanha liked to pretend that he heard a hint of fondness in the older boy's voice. Whether or not that _was_ truly fondness, Sanha wasn't sure, but it made him smile right back, regardless.

Minhyuk walked him home after closing up the bakery. Sanha didn't blurt out anything stupid that time, which was an achievement in and of itself (he deserved more cookies and Minhyuk smiles for that). Before they parted for the evening, Minhyuk muttered, “Thanks, Sanha.”

“Hm?” Sanha paused in unlocking his door. “For what?”

“For...for trying to make Myungjun keep his smile. For being a good friend, and...talking to me?”

Sanha didn't get a chance to respond (though, in all honesty, he wasn't sure _how_ to respond to that) before Minhyuk darted inside his own apartment.

And Sanha stood there for a few seconds, grinning widely and trying to tell his fluttering heart to calm down. Life _honestly_ couldn't become much better than this.

(Which was true, life couldn't become better. Life _could_ become worse, though.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot actually comes in next chapter (it was supposed to be this one, but im all over the place with my notes, i need to change them up completely). also with plot comes angst so just PREP YOURSELVES.
> 
> send dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) to save Sanha from Bin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But the moment he saw Minhyuk racing towards him, worry evident in his eyes, Sanha decided to be selfish for this one time. He would allow himself to curl up in the comfort Minhyuk had to offer, and maybe tomorrow he would do something to distance himself from everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roll on the angst

Sanha never really considered himself to be the _earliest_ of risers, but he certainly didn't sleep in past ten in the morning, usually. He was rather shocked, then, when he awoke one Saturday and found out that it was nearly noon and both his parents were out and about. He rubbed sleepily at his bed-hair before finding a note his mother had left for him on the fridge.

_Sanha,_ it read, _I'll be out running errands for most of the day. Your father forgot his lunch in the fridge. Would you mind taking it to him?_

He was a good son. He had always been a good son, and so he added a small smiley-face to his mother's note before reaching inside and grabbing the paper-bagged lunch his mother would always prepare every night. She would leave cute notes on the front of the bags, too; this one had, _I hope my darling husband enjoys his meal!_

“Yuck!” Sanha muttered, and he stuck his tongue out, but he couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. His parents were sickeningly sweet. He wondered if, one day, he might have a similar relationship with someone _he_ fell in love with.

(And, honestly, Minhyuk was the only person he could see taking that position.)

He added his own note to the back of the lunch bag: _Eat well, Dad! Your Sanha baby loves you!_

Maybe _he_ was sickeningly sweet, as well. His parents' personalities must have rubbed off on him in some form or another.

Before he could properly head out, he had to peek out of his door, ensuring that Minhyuk wasn't anywhere around. He and Minhyuk had already gotten into several awkward encounters before, short meetings that left Sanha's heart racing and Minhyuk's face a blushed mess. And while it would be _amazing_ to see Minhyuk again, Sanha decided that he couldn't get flustered out in the open like this. He had already turned into a cockroach in front of Bin – if any of his other neighbors saw him shift, he would never hear the end of it, and they might even end up telling on him to his father's boss, who already held a strong dislike of magic users.

If the police chief knew of Sanha's powers, he would fire Sanha's dad for sure, and Sanha would forever feel guilty.

Fortunately for him, Minhyuk was nowhere to be found. Sanha assumed he was probably manning the bakery at the moment, considering both Myungjun and Jinwoo had taken some sort of trip.

(“Where did they go?” Sanha had asked after several days of not having seen Myungjun.

“They needed to get away,” Minhyuk had responded. “You know, from... _this_.” And he needn't expand; Sanha knew exactly what he was referring to.)

The trip to the police station wasn't a long one. It did require riding a bus, but Sanha was used to that. He had memorized the bus routes that would take him to the station a long time ago; even as a younger child, he used to love visiting his father at work. He would always declare that _he_ would become a policeman, too, one day. The police chief laughed and coddled him and always had a supply of lollipops and other candies.

Now, though, Sanha wasn't as certain in his future. A policeman did seem like a fun job, especially if it meant he could be more like his father, but seeing Dongmin and Bin struggle with trying to protect their magic-using friends made him hesitate. He always forgot just how hated magic users truly were. If he _did_ become a policeman, would he have to use his job to brush aside crimes committed against innocent victims, simply because the victims were born as magic users?

Sanha knew from experience that it was a lifestyle no one _wanted_ to be born as; it simply happened against your will.

If Sanha didn't have magic, he decided, he would be much happier and more carefree. He might have the nerve to actually ask Minhyuk out without worrying about shifting mid-confession, and he could work as a policeman and not have any connections to other magic users.

It was a dream, however, that would never come to pass, and Sanha decided to ignore his longings. His current life involved keeping parts of him secret, and he was doing a good job at it so far.

The bus came to a stop right by the station, and Sanha hurried off of it, along with several other people, all going about their own paths. Sanha's path led him to the small building his father worked in, and he happily hummed to himself as he swung the lunch bag by his side.

Truth be told, he hadn't visited his father at work in a while. He was busy with school now, studying for exams taking up most of his time, and he was no longer a little kid who longed to be coddled by the other officers in the station. Still, it did bring back memories as he walked down the hallway, and the police who _did_ recognize him gave him large grins and greetings, which Sanha readily returned.

But he had forgotten one little problem; Bin and Dongmin worked here, and Bin easily caught sight of Sanha (he wasn't hard to miss, and he cursed the fact that he had to dye his hair _orange_ , of all colors he could have chosen).

“Sanha!” Bin called out, jogging over to him. Sanha had wanted to pretend he didn't know Bin, but he figured that might be pretty rude.

“Detective Moon,” he greeted curtly.

Bin snorted. “Just call me Hyung or something. Only my colleagues call me _Detective Moon_.” He looked down at the brown paper bag in Sanha's hands. “Aw, did you bring lunch for your favorite hyung?”

Sanha had no idea how Bin was even able to get a job at the police station. He was too goofy to actually be taken seriously.

(Also, he threatened people pretty well, so maybe _that_ was how he got himself a job.)

“It's not for you!” Sanha exclaimed, holding the bag closer to his side. “It's for my dad. He forgot his lunch, so I'm bringing it over for him. Do you know where he is?”

Bin cooed lightly before patting Sanha's shoulder. “You're such a good son, Sanha. I wish you were my son.”

“You're not that much older than me, are you?”

“Your dad is Officer Yoon, right?” Bin chose to ignore Sanha's question, and he looked around the office for a second before muttering, “I _think_ he's out on patrol.”

Which had made the entire trip a little useless. He was probably picking himself up some food while he was out, rather than worrying about one of his family members bringing him something. Sanha sighed and tried to map out his next plan.

“I can take the lunch, though. Dongmin left a while ago to pick me up some more food, but he's not back yet and I'm really hungry.”

“That won't be fair to Dongmin-hyung, though, if he brings you food and you're too full to even eat it.”

Bin clicked his tongue up against the roof of his mouth. “I don't think you know me that well, Sanha. I can eat _anything_. I can eat your dad's entire lunch and still have plenty of room for whatever it is that Dongmin's bringing me.” And, quieter, he added, “I still have room for Dongmin after that.”

Sanha wished he had plugs in his ears so he didn't have to hear Bin's lewd statements. He blushed lightly instead, though, which made Bin laugh. “Lighten up, kid. As if you haven't heard icky, gross things being said before.”

Sanha thought back to the bag in his hands, to the words his mother had written. That was about as icky and gross of statement he heard on a daily basis (when Myungjun wasn't involved, anyway).

“I just want to give my dad his lunch. It's up to him whether or not he eats it.”

Bin brightened. “Can I give it to him?” he asked.

Sanha trusted Bin to watch after the lunch about as much as he trusted a dog with a lunch. “ _No_. You'll just eat it.”

“You don't know that.”

But Sanha did, because Bin's stomach was rumbling and he kept eyeing the lunch in jealousy.

“I'll just wait for my dad here,” Sanha announced. “I'm sure the chief won't mind.”

“We can ask him.” Bin grabbed Sanha's wrist and tugged him into the chief's office, despite Sanha's protests. There was no _reason_ to ask the chief, because the chief _liked_ Sanha. He would agree even if Sanha sat himself in the middle of the floor and demanded cookies, probably.

Still, Bin wasn't deterred by Sanha's tugging and pulling. He simply grinned brightly and presented Sanha to the chief as if he had just caught a famous criminal. “Chief, Officer Yoon's son is here to sit around and deliver lunch to his father!”

The chief blinked in confusion. “There's no reason to announce it to me,” he responded as he looked up from the package he had just opened. Sanha wished he could say _I told you so._ “Besides, my door was closed, Detective Moon, which means _what?_ ”

Bin's smile faltered slightly. “You don't like to be interrupted.”

“Exactly.” The chief sighed before looking over at Sanha. “How are you today, Sanha? It's been a while since I've last seen you.”

Sanha offered him a small grin. “I'm doing good, Chief. I was just going to wait for my dad to come back from patrol so I could give him his lunch. Has he been gone long?”

Sanha knew the chief hated magic users, but at least Sanha's identity was hidden from him, because he liked the Chief's warm gaze. “He hasn't been gone for _too_ long, but he was only going to be out for an hour or two today, anyway. If you wait for a bit, I'm sure he'll be back here shortly.”

“Great, thank you.” Sanha gave a slight bow and moved to turn, but Bin held him back.

“Is Sanha just allowed to sit in here all day?” Bin asked.

The chief shrugged. “He used to spend a lot of his time here. Besides, I've missed him. It's been _ages_ since we've had such a sweet presence in our station, don't you think, Detective Moon?”

“Well, I'm inclined to say that Dongmin is the sweetest of everyone, so-” Bin gave Sanha's back a small pat, and when Sanha tried leaving _again_ , the chief stopped him this time.

“Speaking of Dongmin – I mean, Detective Lee – when should _he_ be back? I have something interesting to show both of you that might make catching criminals even easier.”

Bin blinked, displaying an intrigue to figure out exactly what it was. Sanha, however, shifted himself closer to the door. “If...if it's police business, I should probably leave,” he muttered.

“Oh, it's alright, Sanha! You can look at it, too.” The chief excitedly gestured for the two boys to come closer. Bin glanced nervously at Sanha before doing so. “I was going to do a hands-on demonstration with Detective Lee, but I guess I can do it with you, Detective Moon. Come here-” He motioned again for Bin. “And hold out your hand.”

“What for?” Bin asked, seeming unsure now of what was going to happen.

“Just hold out your hand. I want to see if this bracelet works.”

“Bracelet?” Bin still seemed anxious, but he held out his hand regardless. “Like, handcuffs? Is this a new sort of handcuffs?”

The chief shook his head and pulled a bright, red bracelet from the box he had just opened. The bracelet was thick, with words across it that Sanha couldn't quite decipher from his position, and if it was supposed to be a fashion piece, it was _very_ ugly. Sanha knew it would attract attention from everyone who saw it; and not even the good sort of attention.

“Gross,” he murmured at the bracelet as the chief snapped it around Bin's wrist.

The chief laughed. “It is gross, isn't it? Don't worry, it won't work for either of you. Watch.”

Sanha leaned in closer. Despite the fact that he had _clearly_ seen the chief secure it around Bin's arm, the bracelet undid itself and fell back down to the table in a heap of ugly red.

Bin gasped and stared at it with wide eyes. “It's...what the _hell_ is that all about? Why did it fall off of me?”

“It doesn't work to normal people!” the chief proudly responded, picking it back up again. “I requested these a _long_ time ago to solve our witch issue, and they just now came in. Of course, with the witch dead, I know we won't need them for that purpose, but it's still great at weeding out which magic users we should avoid.”

“So it labels magic users?” Bin bit down at his bottom lip and glanced up at the chief. “We're labeling them now?”

“It makes it easier to know who to avoid,” the chief responded. “I've only been given five of them, though, so we have to ensure that we only label strong magic users. Basically, anyone who you or Dongmin might suspect, strap this around this wrist. If it falls off, they're a normal person.” He smiled before gesturing for Sanha's hand.

Sanha realized what he was asking for the moment Bin did. “I-I should...I just remembered, I have chores at home-”

“You'll be here a few hours, you said, until your father comes back,” the chief retorted. “Look, I just want to show you that it doesn't work on normal people!”

“You've already shown us,” Bin jumped in hurriedly. “Um, it didn't work on me, so it won't work on him.”

The chief laughed again, seemingly unaware of the panic the two boys felt. “And then it will just fall back down to the table. Sanha, let me see your arm.”

“Sanha,” Bin snapped. “You don't need to-”

“Are you undermining me, Detective Moon?” the chief snapped, and he pushed Bin aside. Before Sanha knew exactly what was going on, the chief had pulled him forward and snapped the bracelet around his own wrist.

“Look, it falls off when it detects someone normal...”

The chief trailed off then when the bracelet clearly wasn't falling off. And, rather than just hang on his wrist like a normal bracelet, it was moving. Sanha watched in horror as it began shrinking in on itself, pushing closer to Sanha's skin, until it began to meld itself down on Sanha's wrist.

“Bin!” Sanha screeched, shaking his arm in an attempt to get the bracelet off of him. “Bin, help!”

Even if Sanha considered Bin somewhat of a jerk, it was nice to see that Bin wasn't going to let him suffer. Bin shoved the chief aside, who hardly batted an eye – he was staring at the bracelet with such a shocked, fearful expression, and Sanha shook his arm even harder.

“Hold still!” Bin fussed at him, and he examined Sanha's wrist.

The bracelet seemed to have become one with Sanha. It changed the pigmentation of his skin, molding _into_ him as if he had gotten a large, ugly tattoo around the lower half of his wrist.

And Sanha was finally able to read the words: _Magic User_.

“Sanha?” the chief whispered, and the two pairs of eyes met. “Y-You're a _magic user?_ ”

The terror in the chief's gaze made Sanha burst into tears, and he stumbled away from both Bin and the chief. “I'm not!” he exclaimed. He rubbed at the bracelet, trying to somehow peel it from his skin, but it appeared permanent. “I-It's messing up, it's not doing wh-what it's supposed to! I'm _normal!_ ” He was desperate, and he looked over at Bin again. “Get it off, _please!_ ” he begged the older man, and he resorted to scratching at the red spot. “B-Bin, _please_ , I do-don't want this on me! I'm not a magic user, I _swear_ , I'm-”

The chief stopped Bin from rushing over, slowly shoving him backwards. “Don't touch him,” the chief snapped. “He might be dangerous.”

That made Sanha cry even harder. “I-I'm _not!_ ” he hiccuped, and he had to brush tears out of his eyes to properly see anything at that point. “Bi-Bin, it's a mess u-up, isn't it? I'm normal!”

“Your _father_ brought a _magic user_ into my station all these years?” the chief asked, his voice far more serious than Sanha was used to hearing. “He brought someone as dangerous as _you?_ ”

“I'm not-” Sanha rushed forward, trying to _beg_ the chief to somehow believe him, to somehow save him from being branded as a magic user. Once more, though, the chief scrambled away, and Sanha definitely didn't miss that flash of terror once more. “I'm not dangerous!” Sanha choked out, and he brought trembling fingers up to hide his face. “I'm not dangerous!”

But the chief didn't believe him, it seemed. The chief gripped at the corner of his desk, then snapped, “Get out of my station.”

Sanha froze. Hearing the chief's voice quiver with fear shocked him into silence. It seemed Bin, too, was shocked, but at least _he_ didn't fall silent. “Chief, you're acting irrationally. Look, he can't-”

But then the chief pounded his desk once. Sanha jumped with a whimper. “Get _out!_ ” the chief bellowed. “Get out! I will not have you _or_ your father anywhere _near_ my station ever again, do you _hear me?_ ”

That was all it took for Sanha to hurry out of the room. He was crying again, tears streaming down his cheeks, and he ignored the confused stares of the other officers. Vaguely, he heard Bin call after him, but he was more determined to get out of the station without anyone else noticing the giant label tattooed into his skin.

It didn't work, though. Try as he might, he was unable to hide the red coloring all around his wrist, and a few policemen gasped as he rushed past them. He heard mutters, heard Bin still yelling his name, but he didn't stop until he was out the door and halfway down the street.

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't go back and wait for his father; not only would the chief chase him away again, but now his _dad_ was subjected to the chief's wrath.

Sanha leaned his back up against one of the buildings close by and slid down to the ground. He pulled his knees up closer to him and tried hiding his hand.

He sobbed out when he realized just how difficult it was. He wailed when he realized he could never face his father again. He cost his dad his _job!_ He cost both his parents their livelihood. Now everyone knew they housed a magic user – now everyone knew what he was.

He wondered if this was how Myungjun felt. He wondered if Myungjun had gone through this exact same process, minus being _physically_ labeled to display his curse for the world to see. Minhyuk had mentioned how difficult Myungjun's life had been beforehand.

Minhyuk.

Minhyuk was the only person Sanha could think about right then. He didn't want Bin and Dongmin involved, because they would lose their jobs just like his father was about to. He couldn't call his mom, because then he would have to explain just what he did to screw up life for his entire family. Myungjun was out on a trip somewhere with Jinwoo, and it would take them far too long to come back.

Minhyuk was the only person he had left who would still care about him.

He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts before finally pressing down on Minhyuk's number.

Minhyuk answered after two rings. “Sanha?” was his greeting. He sounded confused. Sanha never called him; it was too awkward to talk to his crush, so he usually texted Minhyuk anything he had to say.

But now, hearing Minhyuk's voice through the phone soothed Sanha slightly, and he took a deep breath. “Mi-Minhyuk?” His voice was trembling as much as his hands were, and Minhyuk definitely caught on,

“Sanha?” he repeated. “Sanha, what's wrong?”

Sanha tried not to cry, he _really_ tried not to cry again, but the tears came and he sobbed out, “Th-They know who I am, Mi-Minhyuk! They kicked me-me out and I'm _labeled_ , I'm a monster to th-them, and my dad- oh, god, Minhyuk, I hate myself! I've ruined ev-everything for everyone, I'm so sorry-”

“Sanha?” Minhyuk sounded frightened and concerned now. “Sanha, where the hell are you?”

“You shouldn't come!” Sanha blurted out, shaking his head. “Please don't come! Th-The police chief hates me, and he ha-hates my dad, and everyone will hate you if you're near me!”

“I don't give a shit if people hate me,” Minhyuk snapped, and he appeared to be moving, his breath coming out in shorter pants. “Are you at the station?”

Sanha knew he couldn't lie that well, so he chose not to answer. However, that just tipped Minhyuk off. “You're near the station, then?”

“I'm down the street – I'm hiding. They hate me, Minhyuk!” Sanha sniffed. “I'm normal, though. I'm not dangerous. I'm _not-_ ”

“I know you're not. I'm...I'm going to take a bus and come down there, alright?”

Sanha cried again. “I don't want you to get in trouble! Please-”

“I live with a necromancer and a witch, Sanha. I won't get in trouble. I'll help you.” He was quiet for a few seconds, then added, “Can you wait there for me? Please? Please don't leave, I need to be there for you.”

As much as Sanha didn't want to get Minhyuk caught up in his mess, he agreed finally. He might have been selfish, but he truly didn't want to be alone right then. He _needed_ someone with him, someone who wasn't going to judge him for being born an outcast, a person who was lesser than all other normal humans.

And Minhyuk had never once judged him before.

It didn't take that long for Minhyuk to finally arrive; or, if it had, Sanha was dazed for most of the wait, panic flitting through his mind as he imagined his parents having to struggle to make do in a world that pushed aside magic users and those allied with them. Sanha didn't want to force that struggle on _anyone_ , and he had half a mind to send Minhyuk away.

But the moment he saw Minhyuk racing towards him, worry evident in his eyes, Sanha decided to be selfish for this one time. He would allow himself to curl up in the comfort Minhyuk had to offer, and maybe tomorrow he would do something to distance himself from everyone else.

“Sanha!” Minhyuk called, and he came to a panting stop in front of the younger boy. “Sanha, what happened?”

Sanha didn't know if he could answer at that moment. He didn't think he could keep his composure, and he had already cried enough. He didn't want Minhyuk to think he was a baby. Instead, though, he held out his hand, displaying the red label tattooed into his skin, and he felt himself choke up once more.

Minhyuk stared in shock for a few seconds before bending down to Sanha's level. “Did the police put that on you?”

It was easier to nod than it was to explain the situation. Sanha sniffed, hiccuped, the buried his face into his hands. “I-I-I want to _die!_ ” he sobbed.

It was quiet, save for Sanha's muffled cries, and then Minhyuk whispered, “We can get through this. We can work this out.”

“We-We can't! It's stuck on me, Mi-Minhyuk, and everyone knows how _worthless_ I am!”

“Don't say that. We'll figure it out-”

“We won't!” Sanha was usually an optimist, a trait his mother always loved, but there was no positive side of this situation, and he looked up at Minhyuk with red-rimmed eyes. “They th-think I'm dangerous! They hate me! _I_ hate me! My parents will hate me, everyone _hates me!_ ”

Suddenly, though, Minhyuk pulled him forward into a tight embrace. He pushed Sanha's head down to rest on his shoulder, and his hands rubbed over Sanha's back in a comforting manner. “That's a lie. That's a lie, and you know it. Your parents will never hate you. Myungjun, and even Jinwoo, they won't hate you.” Sanha felt Minhyuk swallow thickly. “I...I don't hate you. I could never.”

Sanha took deep breaths and slowly moved his arms up to grip onto Minhyuk's shirt. “Promise you don't hate me? Even if-if I have _this?_ ”

“Even if you have that band on your wrist forever and ever, I'd _never_ hate you – I'll never hate you, Sanha. I...I lo-I mean, I...I'm your friend.”

Sanha had been _sure_ Minhyuk would say something else, but he didn't question it right then. He was going to take whatever comforting he could get, and so he squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to cry once more, sobbing into the crook of Minhyuk's neck.

“We'll figure it out,” Minhyuk repeated in a whisper.

And, somehow, when Minhyuk said it, Sanha actually believed it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm straying from my outline just SLIGHTLY, so if some of this appears a little rocky, it's because i thought of better things to add in but haven't fully planned it all out yet. stick with me for a bit, folks!!!
> 
> keep your dollar bills this time - buy astro's album with them. support my happy sunshine children. (visit me anyway [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com).)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't want his family to love him anymore. He didn't want them to care for him or worry for him, because all that would bring them was pain and suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some pain and sadness to end your week nicely

Sanha didn't really want Minhyuk to call Myungjun. “It's going to cut his vacation short!” the younger boy complained, and he kept his gaze down to the floor. “I-I'm not worth him cutting his vacation short.”

“You're worth more than that,” Minhyuk responded in frustration. He didn't stop dialing the number. “And Myungjun will agree with me.”

Minhyuk was right. Somehow, Sanha _knew_ Minhyuk was right even before he heard Myungjun's loud voice over the phone, prompting Minhyuk to draw his ear away from it as Myungjun fussed and ranted. Sanha only partially listened, much more interested in examining his arm with red-rimmed eyes, trying to figure out just how the bracelet even _worked._

He didn't even notice Minhyuk was off the phone until his friend was seated right beside him. “Does it hurt?”

Sanha glanced over. Minhyuk's eyes were filled with worry, with anger, with fear.

Sanha was the cause of it. Guilt tore at him.

“N-No. It's fine. It feels normal.” Except it came with the sinking dread that he had ruined life for everyone who had ever involved themselves with him. He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. His tears had dried up after sobbing in Minhyuk's arms for a long while, and Minhyuk had shown nothing but patience until Sanha was ready to begin to short trek back home. He refused to take a bus, too scared that people might notice his label, and Minhyuk readily agreed to walk the distance alongside Sanha.

And then, when Sanha stared at the door to his own apartment, Minhyuk hadn't wasted another minute to pull him into _his_. “I-I can't invade your personal space, especially i-if Myungjun-hyung isn't home and hasn't given me permission!” Sanha had argued, but Minhyuk didn't listen to him. Minhyuk simply pushed aside some of the potted plants on the coffee table and laid down a glass of milk and several cookies.

Sanha felt selfish as he ate them, but it _was_ far more comforting to eat cookies with Minhyuk than it was to go back to his empty place and wait for his parents to come home and learn what a terrible son he was.

“Jinwoo-hyung can help,” Minhyuk suddenly blurted out. “He's a witch. He...he might know of a spell.”

Sanha bit his lip harshly. “You said he wasn't a powerful witch.”

“He can do some stuff. He can...he can do some stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?”

Minhyuk didn't answer for a few seconds. His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced over at a few plants by the corner, wilted and dying. “Um...he can do some stuff,” he finally repeated.

This further solidified Sanha's assumption that he was never going to be free from this label. He would have to carry it with him forever, forcing everyone to look in his direction and find him _dangerous_ , just as the chief had before.

“Minhyuk-hyung?”

“What?”

“I think I know how Myungjun-hyung must have felt before moving here.” He swallowed thickly as Minhyuk stared at him. “He said he was a horrible son. He said he wished he had never been born.” Sanha wished he had enough tears left over to cry again. Instead, all he could do was give a choked sob. His breathed hitched as he whispered, “I never thought I'd feel like this, Minhyuk-hyung.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Minhyuk move in for a hug again, and Sanha decided he would continue to be selfish for a bit longer. He wanted to curl up in Minhyuk's warm embrace and try to forget all of the issues he was currently faced with.

However, the knocking on the front door to the apartment caused both boys to jump, and Minhyuk hurried up from the couch. “It can't be Myungjun-hyung,” Minhyuk muttered, and Sanha noticed his red cheeks. “He was still at his mom's house when I called-”

He opened the door, revealing Dongmin and Bin. Bin shoved Minhyuk aside in order to rush over to Sanha. “Are you okay?” the detective asked. “I'm _so sorry_ , Sanha! I didn't know he would do this, I didn't even know he _had_ that sort of thing on him!” Bin reached out to grab Sanha's wrist, but Sanha quickly pulled his arm away. He didn't want it to be looked at more than it had to be.

“I-I'm fine,” Sanha stammered out, trying to hide the fact that he had been bawling for the past hour or so.

Bin, obviously, wasn't convinced with Sanha's lie. “You're _not_ fine. I wouldn't be fine if I was labeled like that-”

“Bin.” Dongmin's calmer voice joined in, and he gently moved his boyfriend aside. “I need to talk to him, alright?”

“I just wanted to apologize!” Bin whined, and he looked genuinely sorry for the trouble he had caused.

Sanha felt guilty just for having the band on him; he wondered how guilty Bin must have felt for dragging him to the chief in the first place.

“I'm not mad at you,” Sanha muttered, and he looked away. “It wasn't your fault. You tried to get me out of there before the chief could...could do anything.” It was himself he was mad at; he was the one who had been born as a magic user. If he hadn't been born, perhaps, things would be easier for everyone involved in his life.

Bin didn't seem to fully accept Sanha's statement. He still looked guilty, but at least he fell silent for Dongmin to finally speak.

“Can I see it, Sanha?”

Sanha bit down at his lip and refused to look over in Dongmin's direction. Currently, he had it covered with a wristband Minhyuk had let him borrow.

(“Don't you need it?” Sanha had tearfully asked.

Minhyuk shook his head as he situated it properly around the red marking on Sanha's wrist. “I hardly use it. It...it looks better on you, anyway.”)

“I just need to see it for a second, Sanha.” Dongmin's voice was gentle and kind, making it very difficult for Sanha to continue resisting it when help was offered. Besides, Dongmin was a magic user; he might actually know something about these mysterious bracelets, and so Sanha finally nodded his head and pulled back the armband around his wrist.

The words of the bracelet mocked him: _Magic User_. No one would like him if they saw this. He worried for his future, for any potential jobs he might apply for, for any friends he might try to make – even doctors were able to refuse magic users in their offices.

“Ca-Can it come off?” he stammered out as Dongmin examined it closely. “Do you know of a way to get it off?”

Dongmin didn't answer at first, and when he looked up after a minute or two, he didn't seem any less worried. “It, uh...it's magic, Sanha.”

Sanha blinked, but it was Minhyuk who answered. “What does that mean? The _bracelet_ is magic?”

“I spoke with the chief about it, just trying to gather more information. Not...not this chief, I mean, the one from Gangnam.” Dongmin worked on straightening out Sanha's wristband again to cover the label. “He said the government employed witches to make these bracelets. They're hexed to ensure they properly mold into a magic user's skin.”

Minhyuk drew in a sharp intake of breath. “Why would they do that?” he asked. “ _They're_ magic users, too – and why is the government even messing around with witches? I thought they killed them the moment they could.”

“I guess they finally saw the purpose in some of them. I'm not sure. All I know is that a few police stations have requested these bracelets. Usually it's the ones with an area of _dangerous_ magic users.”

“Like _shifters?_ How the hell is Sanha _dangerous?_ ” Minhyuk questioned harshly.

Sanha didn't like that word _dangerous_. He remembered the chief spouting it out, and he crossed his arms over his chest, curling in slightly on himself. Was _he_ dangerous? Was _he_ evil? All because he could shift – and he couldn't even shift that well, either. He couldn't control what he shifted into, and he had never done anything larger than a kitten before. How was a kitten dangerous?

Dongmin seemed to notice his discomfort, and he gave Sanha's shoulder a small pat. “I don't think it's meant for shifters, especially not low-level ones, Sanha. They designed it more for people with greater powers. People who can manipulate, say, um, _fire_ , maybe those who can use electricity, as well...necromancers-”

“Are they going to use it on Myungjun-hyung?” Sanha's eyes widened in terror, and he held his wrist close to him. “Mi-Minhyuk-hyung called him back, though – are they using it on _him?_ ”

“They don't know he's a magic user, Sanha. Myungjun will be fine.” Dongmin reached into his pocket to pull out a folded sheet of paper. His handwriting on it was impeccable, and despite his fear, Sanha leaned forward to read whatever it was Dongmin had written down.

He wasn't sure why Dongmin had three names with addresses listed beside them. It didn't make sense, and he stared in confusion until Dongmin explained, “The chief from Gangnam gave me the three witches who are able to make these bracelets. The locations we have are only _assumed_ locations. We know at least one of them is correct, but we're not entirely certain which one it is.”

“How did you get these?” Minhyuk asked.

Bin, despite his anxious glances toward Sanha, answered quietly, “We're good friends with the chief from Gangnam. He'd give Dongmin anything in the world if Dongmin asked for it.”

“What are we supposed to _do_ with them, though?” Minhyuk seemed a little snappish, and Sanha longed to calm him down, but he wasn't sure how to go about doing that. At the very least, he was happy that Minhyuk was stressed over him.

(Happy, but very selfish, and very undeserving of Minhyuk's care.)

“If Jinwoo is unable to get this bracelet off, perhaps one of us can find these witches and see if any of _them_ can,” Dongmin responded. “I know they live far away, but it's just a possibility to think about. I mean, I don't know what else-”

“Jinwoo will take it off,” Minhyuk muttered.

Dongmin raised an eyebrow and pointedly glanced over to the dying plants off to the corner of the room. “I don't want to sound like a pessimist-”

“Then don't.” It was Bin this time who spoke, causing Dongmin to stare at him in alarm. “Please, Dongminnie, just...Jinwoo can work something out. He _has_ to. I'm sure with the-the right motivation, his powers become stronger, and doesn't this seem like the right motivation?”

Dongmin seemed ready to disagree. He was already shaking his head, but when he looked over at Sanha's forlorn expression, he appeared to change his mind on refuting Bin's statement. “He...he might be able to,” he reluctantly agreed. “Witches are more powerful than any other magic user, so I've read before, and I don't see why he wouldn't be able to undo this spell. It's most likely a basic spell of some sort.”

However, even as he spoke, Sanha knew that wasn't going to happen. He could tell Dongmin didn't believe the words he was saying, and Minhyuk looked unsure of the entire prospect of Jinwoo succeeding, as well.

So Sanha's only hope was the list that Dongmin gave him. He muttered a small, soft _goodbye_ to the detectives as they left (Bin only hugged him for thirty seconds, until Minhyuk came to his rescue to pull the two of them apart), and then he sat in Minhyuk's apartment, staring down at the list with fear coursing through him.

The only way to get the bracelet off of his wrist was to ask other witches to help him out.

It was a terrifying prospect. Even the knowledge of Jinwoo's low-level magic status didn't help some of his weariness whenever they ran into each other coming or going from their respective homes. He hated feeling that way, too, as it seemed that Jinwoo was a perfectly kind human; he was normal, save for his ability to make potions and kill flowers with a single touch, but he couldn't shake the fear of witches that had been instilled in him since childhood. His teachers always informed him that _all_ magic users were bad, but _witches_ were the worst.

Witches deserved nothing short of death, according to his teachers, and Sanha had agreed up until now. He had never wanted to be around them. Now, though, he had Jinwoo living next door, and a witch's hex around his wrist, and a list of these witches that he needed to find and beg to save him from his otherwise lonely existence.

He hardly noticed when Minhyuk reached over to rub his arm.

“Sanha?” Minhyuk's voice was quieter now that Dongmin and Bin were out of his apartment. “Are you okay?”

Sanha nodded his head.

“Are you _sure?_ ”

“No.” His voice was hoarse, and he folded the list up and put it away in his pocket, contemplating his next move. Should he leave to go find these witches? He had never been _anywhere_ without his parents before, though, and those were fun vacations, not desperate attempts to pull off a giant, ugly label given to him by a police chief. “I'm not okay, Minhyuk-hyung. I-I'm a _magic user_ , and that's all everyone will know me as now, isn't it?” He glanced over at Minhyuk with tearful eyes. “They'll see this, and they won't even bother with me as a person. Be-Because I'm _not_ a person, am I? I'm not _normal_ -”

“You're normal.”

Sanha shook his head. “Please don't lie.”

“No, Sanha, you _are_ normal. Just because you can change shapes doesn't mean anything. Just like Myungjun can revive dead things and Jinwoo just – I don't even know what Jinwoo does half the time, but he does weird stuff, and _he's_ still normal.”

Minhyuk was too kind. Sanha wondered how a person was able to go through their whole life with no prejudices of any magic users whatsoever. Even _Sanha_ had prejudices, and yet Minhyuk never seemed to mind when someone was able to use magic.

Sanha wished he was more like Minhyuk. He wished he was able to love people despite who they were.

“Why are you so nice?” he asked.

Minhyuk gave Sanha a small smile, awkward and unsure. “To you I am, because you deserve someone being nice to you. I-I mean, you're...my friend, right? So I'm nice to my friends.”

Sanha rubbed at his nose and looked away from Minhyuk. He liked being Minhyuk's friend. He liked it more than anything, because Minhyuk made him feel that maybe he was worth more than the label on his wrist said he was.

“Why don't you go home, Sanha?” Minhyuk suddenly asked. “It's...it's getting late, and I know your parents must be worried-”

“They'll toss me aside.”

Minhyuk sighed and shook his head. “They won't. Trust me, Sanha, I know a loving family when I see one. Just...just go back home. We'll meet up again tomorrow, and Myungjun and Jinwoo will be here, and we can work it out. Jinwoo can get that bracelet off of you and we'll be fine.”

Even Minhyuk didn't sound so sure of himself, though. Even Minhyuk seemed hesitant to be so optimistic, which brought Sanha's spirits down even lower. He didn't _want_ to go home and face his parents, but the possibility of being seen as selfish was still hanging over his head. If he stayed, Minhyuk would have to continue caring for him, and Sanha didn't want to take up all of his time.

So, instead, he stood from his seat. Minhyuk stood beside him.

“Sanha, you trust me, right? Jinwoo _will_ do something. I'll beat him up if he doesn't.”

That elicited a small chuckle from Sanha. Minhyuk looked pleased with himself. “Don't beat him up. Myungjun will get upset.”

“What's he going to do? He's too short.”

Sanha giggled, and Minhyuk gave his back a pat. “Just rest well, and tomorrow it'll all be fine.”

He left then, with the promise that tomorrow they would sort things out, but he had forgotten just how terrible it would be to face his parents. The moment he stepped in the door, his mother, sitting nearby, ran to greet him. She hugged him tightly, despite his much taller stature, and Sanha saw her shoulders shake with sobs. “Sa-Sanha!” she cried, and before he could stop her, she grabbed his wrist and pulled back Minhyuk's armband to stare tearfully at the bracelet. “O-Oh my god, they _did this_ to you?”

Sanha first wondered how she had figured out, but he saw his father near the couch. He still wore his uniform, but the badge was gone from his chest.

Sanha had never seen his parents look so terrified, and with a sinking feeling in his chest, he realized that _he_ was the cause of it.

“Dad!” he exclaimed, and he pulled back from his mother. “Dad, I-I didn't mean – I'm so sorry, Dad, did th-they _fire_ you?”

He knew it was true, but his father didn't answer.

Sanha's guilt increased tenfold, and he glanced down at the marking in his skin. “It's all my fault.”

“Don't say that!” his mother responded to him, and she moved to hug him again. “Sanha, baby, this _isn't_ your fault! You've done nothing wrong, it was that _police chief's_ fault! He shouldn't have done that to my child, oh my gosh, he's doing _this_ to innocent children – Sanha, don't worry, your father can get a job somewhere else.”

She rubbed at his arm, but Sanha couldn't tear his eyes away from that damn bracelet. “Dad,” he choked out. “Dad, I'm so sorry.”

Finally, his father spoke, and Sanha could hear in his voice that he, too, had been crying. “Sanha, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I was born like this!” Sanha snapped. “I-I was born a _magic_ user, and you guys should've thrown me out of the house!” His chin quivered as he looked over at his mother. “Wh-Why do you _love me?_ I hate myself! I want you to hate me, too, be-because it will be easier for you guys! Da-Dad can keep his job and you guys won't be so ashamed of me!”

“We're not ashamed, Sanha,” his dad replied as Sanha tried to quell his tears. “Sanha, we're _never_ ashamed of you. I'll lose every single job in the world before I ever even _consider_ hating you or making you leave my house.” He stood and hurried over to his son, pulling Sanha into a tight embrace.

And Sanha was selfish for accepting it, and he was selfish for burying his face in his father's chest and crying deeply.

He didn't want his family to love him anymore. He didn't want them to care for him or worry for him, because all that would bring them was pain and suffering.

His mother made dinner for them. Sanha didn't eat, despite her pleas. He _couldn't_ eat, because he would be relying too much on her. He would be selfish for taking away her time, because she was better off doing other things and not feeling concerned over his health.

His father tried talking to him, telling him it would be alright, but his words felt emptier than Minhyuk's had, and Sanha tried not to break down once again.

They both gave him a kiss on his cheek before he headed off to bed. He wanted to wipe the kisses off, but instead he kept them on his skin, cherishing their love and _praying_ he would wake up and be normal.

That wouldn't happen, though, and he knew it. It kept him up throughout the night; he tossed and turned and reminded himself that he was a dangerous creature who was using the kindness and goodness of his parents to keep himself comforted and well-off.

And while he was doing that, they were losing their jobs and friends.

How was he supposed to remedy that, though? How could _he_ fix anything? Minhyuk said that Jinwoo could do something, but it didn't seem as if Jinwoo was a strong enough witch to take the label off of him.

Which meant his only chance was to find one of the three witches on the list he had been given.

Once he came to that conclusion, there really was no going back. He turned on the lamp by his bed and hurried about, throwing clothes in his old suitcase. He crept out of his room once his necessary clothes were packed, grabbing a few other things; toiletries, snacks from the cupboard, a book or two to read along the way – anything that would help him survive by himself.

Because that's what he was going to do, wasn't it? In order to not be a nuisance, he was going to have to go all over Korea by his lonesome and face off with witches.

If he died in the process – he thought, his body tense with fear – then at least his parents would no longer be concerned over him.

He left a note, though, in order to calm the fears his parents would probably have when they awoke. He didn't inform them exactly of where he would be heading, but he _did_ let them know that he would only return if he was free from the label and the marking that now stuck to him.

And if he didn't return, he let them know that he would always love them more than anything else in the world.

The note gained a few of his teardrops, and he had to struggle to keep his sobbing down to a minimum. He couldn't wake his parents; he was _so close_ to allowing them to be free from his curse, and if he woke them now, everything would be for naught.

So he moved carefully, quietly, ensuring that the door didn't creak too much as he opened it.

He allowed himself one last look back at his apartment. He allowed himself to stare for a few seconds at the couch where he would watch movies with his mother, at the dining room table where his father would help him with homework, and at the hallway where he knew both parents still slept in their room, blissfully unaware of the fact that their youngest son was leaving, possibly for the rest of their lives.

Sanha shut the door and took a shuddering breath.

“Sanha?” a voice behind him made him jump, and Sanha spun around, blinking at a figure in the dark. “Are...are you going somewhere?”

It took Sanha a second or two to focus, and when he did, his eyes grew wide. “My-Myungjun-hyung?” he gasped out.

Jinwoo stood right behind the necromancer, looking curious; Myungjun just looked upset.

“I'm...I-I'm going on a-a vacation?” Sanha offered as explanation.

That didn't trick Myungjun, and Sanha hunched down when he realized that the older boy now had a glare.

“A vacation?” he repeated. Sanha nodded weakly, and Myungjun sighed. “Sanha, let's talk.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh it's thursday, so it's not the end of the week yet.
> 
> YO WHO'S EXCITED ABOUT ASTRO COMEBACK? me that's who. send me money so i can throw a party [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All fell silent for a second, until Jinwoo cleared his throat and began to flip through a few pages. “I think I said a word in the spell incorrectly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will myungjin succeed in talking sanha out of this?

Myungjun herded Sanha into his apartment with the rule, “ _Whisper_ only.”

“Why do I have to do that?” Sanha asked, depositing his travel bags on the floor.

“Minhyuk's asleep,” Jinwoo responded. He also had a few bags, now that Sanha was looking at him in a better-lit location. Sanha wondered if they had just gotten back from their vacation. “At least, I'm assuming he is. Is he in his bedroom, Myungjun?”

“Like I'd check on him,” Myungjun muttered under his breath. And, yet, he still _did_ go to check, and he quietly closed Minhyuk's door after he seemed to ensure that his roommate was fast asleep. “We're good.” He sat down on the couch, gesturing for Sanha to sit beside him. “What's this that Minhyuk was talking about? He mentioned – he mentioned you have a _label_? He said it looks like it's been tattooed – did they tattoo you, Sanha?”

Sanha didn't want anyone to look at his wrist anymore than necessary, but Myungjun's gaze was filled with such an intense worry that it felt unfair to withhold information. So, a little shyly, Sanha pushed his sleeve up to his elbow and removed the wristband.

Myungjun gasped, a hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“It's...” Sanha swallowed nervously, then scratched at it. “It won't come off, Hyung. An-And now everyone's going to know what I am.”

“What is it, though? How...how did they do that?”

Sanha licked his lips. “Dongmin-hyung came by and told me that i-it's a witch's spell. He said that witches were employed by the government, and they hexed these bracelets to do _this_ to magic users, and _only_ to magic users.”

It was quiet for a few seconds, and Sanha noticed Jinwoo standing close by, appearing hesitant to come forward.

“Did you know?” Sanha asked, his voice still hushed. “About...about these?”

“No,” Jinwoo answered, shaking his head. “I didn't really know it was possible for the government to _trust_ witches to do something like this in the first place.”

Myungjun, still worried, pointed at the empty spot on Sanha's other side. “Can you sit there and look at it?” he questioned. “Maybe you can figure out how it works, or how to get it off of Sanha.”

Jinwoo blinked in surprise. “If...if Sanha trusts me. I don't want to make him uncomfortable.”

“This bracelet makes me uncomfortable enough,” Sanha mumbled, and he held his hand out for Jinwoo to look at. “Please?”

With _two_ sets of saddened eyes staring him down, Jinwoo must have realized he had no choice. He sighed and sat where Myungjun had suggested, gently taking Sanha's arm in his hand and examining the bracelet as closely as possible. “I really don't think I can fix anything,” he complained. “I mean, you guys see what I did to Myungjun's flowers before we left.”

Myungjun showcased his flowers by pointing at them with both fingers. “Sanha, look. He _ruined_ them, and he didn't tell me about it until we were coming back home. He goes, 'Just a warning, Myungjun, your flowers are messed up.' All my corner ones, too. Those are my pride and joy! Those are like my childre-”

“I said I'm sorry,” Jinwoo fussed.

“Oh, I'm not blaming you. Just make it up to me later with some of your amazing groping.”

Sanha flushed and shook Myungjun's knee with his free hand, “ _Hyung_ , I need help figuring all of this out!”

“Yeah, Myungjun, pay attention.” Jinwoo smirked from Sanha's other side, and Myungjun sighed loudly before looking up at Sanha.

“Well, Jinwoo's working on the bracelet nonsense. How did you even get that on you, though? I thought you hid your status well enough.”

Sanha, now faced with the serious situation once again, ducked his head. “It...it all happened real fast. I was visiting my dad at the station, a-and the chief wanted to try out this new bracelet. He did it on Bin first, but since Bin isn't a magic user, it fell off of him. And then he did it on me, to show us both that it really worked great, but he...he didn't _know_ I'm a magic user. He used to like me a lot, Hyung, but he kicked me out a-and fired my dad.”

Myungjun stared at Sanha for a few seconds. He seemed more solemn than he had in a long time – since he first moved into the apartment, perhaps.

“And,” Myungjun started. His voice was low, devoid of the usual passion and cheer he carried with him on a daily basis, “you've decided that moving out of your parents' house is the best option? You're hoping that if you're gone, they'll live a better life?”

Sanha blinked. “Y-Yeah,” he whispered. “They will, though. They...they don't need someone like me tearing them down.”

He almost didn't notice the concerned glances Jinwoo kept shooting in Myungjun's direction.

“Do you _honestly_ , truly think that will help them?” Myungjun asked. “Sanha, really think about this – will they definitely be happier without you there?”

Sanha didn't stop to think. All he knew was that once he was gone, his father could find a better job without worrying about housing a magic user, and his mom would no longer have to cry over his own qualms. That meant they would be happier. So he nodded to Myungjun's question.

Myungjun sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Sanha, both of us are idiots, aren't we?”

“What do you mean, Hyung?”

“I _mean_ just that. I mean that you're completely wrong about what will make your parents happier. They love you, Sanha. They love you more than they love anything else in the world, and I don't think they care very much what happens in _their_ life, just so long as they have you by their side.”

“And what about you, then?” Sanha retorted sharply. He could see Myungjun's eyes widen, and he continued. “Minhyuk-hyung told me that _you_ left your own parents. I don't think you should be lecturing me on that.”

Myungjun shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Sanha, it's...it's _because_ of that mistake that I'm lecturing you. And that's what it was – a mistake. God, I just...I went to go see them, you know. My mom cried a lot. They've kept my bedroom clean, in hopes I would come back – ask Jinwoo, he saw it all, too.”

Beside him, still observing the labeled skin, Jinwoo nodded. He didn't look up as he mumbled, “They were nice, too. They didn't care Myungjun is a magic user.”

“Y-Yeah, but...!” Sanha was realizing that maybe he _was_ being an idiot. Still, he couldn't fully convince himself to go back home. “Hy-Hyung, you weren't _labeled_ like this.”

Myungjun's eyes darted down to the bracelet. “No,” he responded thoughtfully.

“People knew who he was, though,” Jinwoo brought up.

“Not like _this!_ And I _know_ I can't escape it, so-”

Jinwoo interrupted him, as if he hadn't even been listening. “I might know of a spell. Hold on-” He reached under one of the couch cushions to pull out an old book. The spine of it was ripped and the words on the front were faded. Sanha regarded it curiously, despite his initial defiance to listen to Myungjun's advice.

“What's that, Hyung?”

The witch smiled cautiously. “A spell book,” he replied. “I _know_ there's a removal spell in here, and it might work to remove this bracelet off of you.”

Maybe witches really _weren't_ all that bad. Sanha felt hope overtake his fear from before, and he sat up straighter in his seat. “Really? You can do that?”

“I said _might_.” Jinwoo didn't look too sure of himself as he mouthed the spell a few times to himself before grabbing Sanha's hand. “Hold still.”

Sanha could certainly do that. It wasn't as if he _wanted_ to move around too much when a witch was about to preform a spell on him.

Jinwoo mumbled a few things, a little unintelligible to Sanha. He watched with interest at the hand motions, the movement of Jinwoo's fingers, and the concentration on his face. Jinwoo finished with a small burst of his hands, stretching them out towards Sanha's curse.

Nothing happened at first, and then Sanha heard a sound nearby.

The three boys all glanced to the corner of the room in unison. The dead plants that Myungjun had complained of earlier had all been uprooted from their pots and were tossed aside to the floor, soil scattering across the tiles. A few pots fell – one was cracked.

All fell silent for a second, until Jinwoo cleared his throat and began to flip through a few pages. “I think I said a word in the spell incorrectly.”

Myungjun groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “Jinwoo-”

“I'm sorry, Myungjunnie!” Jinwoo exclaimed, and he glanced over at his boyfriend from across Sanha, pouting for extra measure. “I'll fix it!”

“Nope. Nope, not with magic. If you're going to fix it, do it the _right_ way.” Myungjun gave a sigh. “Honestly, I just-”

“Jinwoo-hyung?” Sanha bit his lip as he stared over at the dead and ruined plants. “I'd prefer it if you didn't try anymore spells. I don't want to end up like the flowers.”

Myungjun gave a bark of laughter at Jinwoo's pained face before covering his mouth, looking over at Minhyuk's closed door to ensure he didn't wake his roommate. There was no movement, so he lowered his hand and smiled. “Don't worry, Sanha. Jinwoo's magic is good for a few things, but he always seems to find a way to ruin my flowers.”

“I think Sanha's bracelet is just too high-level of a hex for me to do anything with,” Jinwoo muttered.

Sanha nodded. “Dongmin-hyung _did_ say that it was a high-level witch that made these.”

“Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Jinwoo's not high-level at all.” Jinwoo made a pained noise, and Myungjun reached over to pat his knee. “Sorry, Jinjin. I love you regardless, though.”

“Gross,” Sanha fussed, and he reached over to grab his bag. “I need to go. My parents might wake up soon-”

Myungjun stopped him, pushing him back into the couch harshly. “Where the hell would you go anyway, Sanha?”

His words cut through Sanha, and the younger boy tightened his lips. “I...I'd go where people d-don't know me-”

“And you really think you can hide that label forever? It doesn't work like that, Sanha. If it's a witch's hex, it's going to stay there, and it'll probably get more difficult to cover as time goes on. This wristband might work for now, but what about trying to get a job, or working with something messy?” Myungjun scoffed. “Running away won't solve a damn thing, Sanha.”

Sanha hated hearing that, because he _knew_ it was true. He knew he was being idealistic to think that people would accept him more than they would in his hometown. Everyone he would meet would treat him as nothing but an outcast.

Still, he was determined to see through with his idea. He took a deep breath. “I'm searching for the witches who make these bracelets, and I'll ask them to take mine off.”

Myungjun blinked, seemingly in shock. “You...what? You're going to search _all_ of Korea for witches? I-I mean, most witches are low-level ones, anyway, like Jinwoo is. I don't think...”

He trailed off as Sanha pulled out Dongmin's list from his pocket, straightening it out to better show it off. “Dongmin-hyung says that these are the three locations that the government is using. I'm going to go to each of their houses and just ask the witches to help me out.”

“Where did he get this?” Jinwoo asked, snatching it before Myungjun could grab at it first.

“He said his chief is really helpful.”

“That sounds illegal. Why are they doing illegal stuff?” Myungjun was able to get in that one question before leaning over Sanha to grab the list out of Jinwoo's hands. “What's this? Jecheon? Seriously? You know how far away that is?”

Sanha didn't know, but he figured a lengthy bus ride would give him plenty of time to craft exactly what he would say to the witches he met. “I can do it, Hyung.”

“Not by yourself. I mean, this is _dangerous_. You think you can go and just greet them, but if these witches are so willing to rat out other magic users and ruin their lives, they probably wouldn't be opposed to _actually_ ruining your life.” Myungjun was looking worried again, and Sanha wondered just how soft of a heart he had. “I guess it's settled. Jinwoo, I'm going with Sanha to save him from being an outcast all of his life.”

Before Sanha could say anything to object (he _liked_ Myungjun, he did, but spending days exploring Korea with him seemed like a terrible idea), Jinwoo broke in. “I don't think he needs a _necromancer_ with him.”

“Sure he does! What if a witch kills him?”

Jinwoo scowled. “Then the witch will kill you, too.”

Myungjun nudged Sanha's side. “Jinwoo kills me with his good looks.”

“Myungjun, focus,” Jinwoo scolded him. “Besides, I don't really think a necromancer is our best bet to get the witches to agree. I think another witch would work better. I can communicate with them on more equal grounds.”

Sanha nodded and pointed to Jinwoo. “Myungjun-hyung, he has a point.”

“Yeah, well I have a point, too, and that point is that we need someone skilled to help Minhyuk at the bakery.”

“ _You're_ the one bringing in all of the money!” Jinwoo complained. “And _you're_ the _owner!_ ”

“We need someone who can bring in more customers, and Jinwoo is _great_ at using spells to make people addicted to stuff. Aren't you, Jinjin? He's really good at it Sanha, the other night he-”

Jinwoo suddenly waved a finger and Myungjun's voice had gone absent, though his lips still moved. Sanha stared in amazement before turning over to Jinwoo, who was blushing and looking incredibly sheepish. “Wow! That was so cool, Hyung! Does he stay like that forever?”

“I wish,” Jinwoo muttered, and he leaned in to Myungjun once more to whisper, “Do _not_ talk about the other night and I'll give you your voice back, okay?”

Myungjun contemplated his choices for a second, then nodded his head cheerfully. Once Jinwoo waved a finger again, Myungjun was back to talking like nothing had happened. “I was going to say _pie_. Sanha, he made a _pie_.”

“And it was addictive? Does that mean he's a good cook?” Sanha's eyes kept flickering back and forth between the two other magic users. Myungjun looked mischievous; Jinwoo looked humiliated. “Because I don't know if he can beat Minhyuk-hyung's pies.”

With that, Myungjun burst into loud laughter, and Jinwoo scrambled over Sanha in order to try and cover his mouth. Sanha watched in confusion at the scene, wondering when and if this would wake up Minhyuk.

As if his thoughts had come to life, then, Minhyuk suddenly rushed from his room, fully dressed with a travel bag thrown over his shoulder. He glared at Myungjun, whose eyes widened up at him. “Hyung,” he started calmly, but with a prickle of irritation in his voice. “What the _hell_ -”

“Did we wake you?” Sanha asked quietly.

Minhyuk decided to forgo his frustration with Myungjun (and Sanha still didn't know what exactly was going on), and he ignored Jinwoo straddling his boyfriend and whispering threats to use more spells on his precious flowers, to look over at Sanha with a small smile. “Let's go.”

“Go?” Sanha blinked, and Minhyuk shifted where he stood.

“T-To...to find those witches and make them take off your bracelet. You can't rely on these two morons.”

“Hey!” Myungjun shoved Jinwoo off of him and jumped up to his feet. He was shorter than Minhyuk, but he still stared him down. “First off, I'm definitely _not_ a moron. Second off, you are _not_ going with Sanha.”

“Says who?” Minhyuk's voice was quiet compared to Myungjun's, but both of them seemed to show an equal amount of complete stubbornness.

“Says your _boss_.” Myungjun's glower was scary, Sanha realized. “You're fired if you leave from work for that long of a time period.”

Minhyuk glanced at Sanha, then swallowed thickly. “Well,” he murmured, “I think Jinwoo can cook well enough now to be your new employee.”

With that, Myungjun bristled and crossed his arms over his chest. “You're _not_ going on a dangerous journey when you can't even defend yourself like Jinwoo or I can, Minhyuk. What happens if a witch attacks you? Then what will you do?”

“I'll figure it out, Hyung. You don't have to worry about me.”

“ _Worry?_ Do I _look_ worried?” Myungjun's voice was trembling, and he looked down at Minhyuk's already-packed bags. “Why were you listening in? Jinwoo and I can handle this, Minhyuk. You're not a magic user, and it's dangerous for someone normal to get involved-”

“I've been involved for a _long_ time,” Minhyuk pointed out. “Even before I met you. Remember?”

Myungjun was silent for a second, and then he whispered, “What if you die?”

Sanha didn't get to hear Minhyuk's reply. Before his friend could say anything, Jinwoo suddenly reached over and began lightly pushing Sanha to the front door of the apartment. He didn't offer an explanation until they were both outside and the door was shut behind them. “We shouldn't, um...listen in,” Jinwoo said after it seemed they were far enough away from the trouble.

Which was fine with Sanha. He didn't want to hear Myungjun start crying again, not after the first time they met.

He wondered how much his parents would cry. His heart tugged at his chest, and he wrapped his arms around himself, both to hide the slight spring chill in the air and to comfort himself from the mission he was about to embark on. Jinwoo noticed, and stared at him with interest.

“You cold?” the older man asked.

Sanha nodded, and Jinwoo smiled fondly. “Maybe this is too much for you to do on your own.”

“I don't need anyone. Really.”

“Let Minhyuk go with you,” Jinwoo continued. “Seriously, Sanha, he's...he's normal, but he's smart and resourceful and...I mean, he goes to the gym a lot, so he actually might be able to help you out. No offense, but you look like you're a pile of stick and bones.”

Sanha rolled his eyes as Jinwoo chuckled. “I don't...I don't know if Minhyuk should come along.”

“Why not?”

He didn't answer at first, but Jinwoo must have noticed the blush that covered his cheeks, because he grinned knowingly.

Sanha didn't mind Minhyuk's company – he had been seeking it out recently, trying to convince himself that even though Minhyuk probably only saw the two of them as friends, maybe his mind would change if Sanha showed off his charm.

(Of course, that hadn't been going to plan, considering the whole _cockroach_ incident and then the whole _labeling_ incident.)

But Sanha had no idea how long he would even be away from home, and that would entail most likely spending the _nights_ with Minhyuk – it was a concept that Sanha wasn't fully prepared for, and he curled in on himself even more with the idea of waking up to Minhyuk in some other bed close by.

Jinwoo seemed to notice _that_ , as well, because he reached over and rubbed Sanha's arm. Sanha noticed warmth pouring forth from Jinwoo's hand, and he wondered if it was a spell, if Jinwoo was using magic in an attempt to comfort him.

“I think Minhyuk will be perfect with you.”

Sanha moved from Jinwoo's touch and covered his face with his hands. “Don't say _that!_ ” he squeaked.

Jinwoo just laughed.

Sanha was about to retort Jinwoo's amusement, perhaps explain that he definitely did _not_ like Minhyuk in such a manner, but Minhyuk actually came outside just then, biting down on his lip and looking guilty at something.

“Are you going?” Jinwoo asked, and Minhyuk nodded his head. “Ah.” Jinwoo's amusement had faded away, replaced instead with worry over the two younger boys. “How upset is Myungjun?”

“He's...pretty upset.” Minhyuk cleared his throat and glanced over at Sanha. “Would you mind it if I joined you?” he asked carefully, and he seemed so uncertain of Sanha's answer.

Sanha fell for him even more, and before he could stop himself and put Minhyuk at a distance in order to protect him, he nodded his head instead.

Minhyuk grinned and passed over Sanha's bag, which Sanha thought he must have grabbed after talking to Myungjun. It was sweet, and it was already a good display of how intelligent Minhyuk was.

(Sanha definitely would have forgotten it.)

“Minhyuk, you have my number?” Jinwoo broke into their short moment, sounding very much like Minhyuk's mother. “Because I need you to _not_ text or call Myungjun if you're in trouble. He's already panicked enough over this whole ordeal, and I don't need him freaking out anymore than necessary. Text or call _me_ , and I'll figure something out.”

“Sure thing.” Minhyuk responded, and Jinwoo gave a loud sigh.

“Just...stay safe, okay? If a witch refuses, _don't_ pressure them into doing anything. The high-level witches might...they might be dangerous.”

Sanha swallowed nervously. Now that he was _actually_ about to go out on this mission, the prospect of facing off with witches seemed terrifying. He was certainly ready to leave if a witch threatened him; Jinwoo's powers, as weak as they were, were scary enough. “Yes, Hyung.”

“Call me every night – or I'll call you and fuss.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “Yes, Hyung.”

“Good. Now, then...” Jinwoo seemed to move in for a hug, but then caught himself and cleared his throat. “I, uh...should go comfort my boyfriend.”

“Not on the couch,” Minhyuk muttered, but Jinwoo heard it and moved in now to smack Minhyuk's shoulder. The younger boy just gave him a gleeful smirk, and Jinwoo, red in the face, scowled.

“You're vulgar.”

“No more than your boyfriend is. _Pie_ , honestly-”

“Just go, then. And if you let anything happen to Sanha, Myungjun will probably kill you.”

It was said with no malic, and Minhyuk's smirk turned into a fond smile. “I won't. Thanks, Jinwoo.”

Jinwoo returned the smile, then patted Sanha's arm one last time before hurrying back inside the apartment.

Sanha took a deep breath and tried to still the pounding of his heart as Minhyuk turned to face him.

“So,” Minhyuk started. “Where are we going?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they didnt succeed.
> 
> so i'm hoping i can write some more of _out of this world_ tomorrow! it's been a while since i updated that one, and i feel so bad for leaving it laying there, especially bc it's so much fun to write. i just needed to get this chapter out first, bc i had a few ideas i never wrote down until now. oops.
> 
> YO FAM ARE YOU GUYS EXCITED TO SEE ASTRO PREFORM BABY ON MUSIC SHOWS?????? my life has been blessed, this is probs my fave album in the whole world. (jinjin's lie rap is my life.)
> 
> come scream with me about the new album [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lesson number one, Sanha: when you run away from home, at least have a plan set out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not overly pleased with this chapter, but we need one of these boring chapters to get the ball rolling, i guess. expect some action or something next chapter!

Sanha had never been the rebellious sort. Running away from home? What was that? It was something new and exciting and _exceedingly_ dangerous, especially with the marking on his wrist and the destinations they had planned out.

Minhyuk, on the other hand, seemed far more comfortable with the journey set out in front of them. He didn't talk much, as per the norm, save for pointing out where they would be turning next. “Though,” he muttered, glancing down at his phone. “I don't think the buses start running until six in the morning.”

Sanha peered over Minhyuk's shoulder: _three am_. Maybe he picked a bad time to run away from home. “What should we do until then?”

“I heard the nightclubs are fun at this time of night.”

Sanha wasn't sure if Minhyuk was joking or not; either way, he _definitely_ didn't want to visit a nightclub, especially not with the bracelet wrapped around his wrist. “You can go,” he mumbled. “I'll wait at the terminal.”

“Idiot,” Minhyuk scoffed, and Sanha would have bristled at the insult had Minhyuk not suddenly shoved his shoulder lightly. “Like I'd go off and leave you all by yourself. I told you that we'd do this together, didn't I?”

“I don't remember you saying that.”

Minhyuk blinked, _then_ decided to say it. “Well, let's do it together. Let's do it _all_ together.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” the older boy confirmed with a nod of his head.

“Except for using the bathroom.”

He probably needn't had said it. Minhyuk looked amused, regardless, and he slowly shrugged his shoulders. “I assumed that was a given,” he responded to Sanha's ridiculous statement. “I just meant we'd stick together, since we're visiting these unfamiliar areas.” He glanced down again at his phone again, displaying the scheduled times and stops of the bus they would be taking. “And Myungjun gave me his card, so we'll be able to get food and tickets and lodging.”

“I hope he has enough money.” Sanha decided to forget the fact that he ever mentioned the whole _bathroom_ nonsense. It didn't seem as if Minhyuk wanted to focus on it, anyway.

“Oh, if he doesn't, I'll just call Jinwoo and he can put more on.”

“Does Jinwoo have a lot of money? I thought he didn't even have a job.”

Minhyuk stuffed his phone back in his pocket and smirked. “He's a witch, Sanha.” The street was empty, fortunately for the two of them, though Sanha did check around nervously to ensure that no one was listening in. Minhyuk didn't seem as worried. “He can make money appear. He's pretty good at it, too.”

“That's _illegal!_ ” Sanha gasped. “That's counterfeit!”

“His entire existence is illegal, Sanha.” Minhyuk seemed resigned at his own words. “So he figures he can do illegal things, because he's already wanted. Myungjun doesn't mind, anyway. I think he likes the extra cash.” Sanha bit his lip and Minhyuk noticed. “Don't worry! He does it on rare occasions, not all the time.”

And even though Minhyuk told him not to worry, Sanha still did. He worried first about Jinwoo's unlawful actions, about the money he hadn't earned himself that Minhyuk might be using to spend on food. He worried about how Jinwoo's actions might affect Myungjun _and_ Minhyuk, if they would get in trouble for their willingness to use such fake money. He worried then about Minhyuk coming along with him, coming along and trudging forth in a quest where they _would_ possibly be breaking the law directly by taking the bracelet off of Sanha's wrist.

He worried so much about Minhyuk's involvement in the whole ordeal, and when they finally reached the mostly-empty bus terminal, Sanha was feeling absolutely terrible for dragging Minhyuk into his mess.

“I guess we can just sit and...and wait for the bus-”

“Minhyuk-hyung, I'm sorry.”

Minhyuk turned and looked at Sanha in confusion, his eyes narrowed and his head slightly cocked. “Why are you sorry? Did you do anything wrong?”

Sanha swallowed thickly and stared down at his bracelet, at the _curse_ – and, no, his mind told himself, it wasn't the bracelet that was cursed. The bracelet did its job in detecting magic users, in detecting those who _were_ actually cursed. It detected those like Sanha, those who shouldn't be a part of society at all, and displayed their abilities so the world could outcast them.

“I...I have this, and I'm making you-”

“You haven't made me do a thing. _I_ made the decision.” Minhyuk straightened out the wristband Sanha wore, covering the bright red label from any peering eyes. “I could have turned back at any moment, Sanha, but...we're doing it all together, remember?”

He remembered. They had the discussion just five minutes prior, but Sanha was feeling less and less comfortable with the idea of involving Minhyuk.

I should've taken Myungjun-hyung,” he mumbled. Minhyuk looked hurt for a few seconds before controlling his expression. “Not because I don't li-like you or anything!” He liked Minhyuk far more than he would ever admit. “Just because...because he's run away from home before, and he knows how to do all of this. I didn't mean for _you_ to run away.”

Sanha liked Minhyuk. Sanha liked Minhyuk so much, and he realized just how much wrong he was doing. He shouldn't have stopped and listened to Myungjun and Jinwoo. He should have continued on his way and ignored them. If he had done that, Minhyuk would still be sleeping in the comfort of his apartment with two amazing friends to watch after him. He wouldn't be gallivanting an empty bus station at ungodly hours of the morning in order to beg witches to get rid of a hexed bracelet that didn't even affect _him_.

Minhyuk pursed his lips before taking a seat in the waiting area. He gestured for Sanha to do the same.

Sanha's legs stuck out, awkward and gangly, next to Minhyuk's much more relaxed position.

“This isn't my first time running away from home.”

He had been well aware of Myungjun's issues, having been told of them just hours before. However, he hadn't given any thought to how Minhyuk moved in, or _why_ he knowingly moved in with a necromancer. With the knowledge that _both_ of them ran away from home, though, Sanha found himself growing exceedingly curious. “Not at the same time Myungjun-hyung did, right? Because...because he moved in first.”

“No. I ran later on, when I graduated high school.”

“That's not running. That's just moving out.”

Minhyuk shrugged. “I guess. Maybe it is.” He gave a small sigh and slouched down in his seat. “Myungjun's parents were always so nice to me. I wish they had been _my_ parents. I would trade lives if I could.” But, suddenly, his eyes widened and he shook his head. “No...never mind. That's...I don't want him to...no, he can keep his life. He deserves loving parents, don't you think? After everything he's been through?”

Sanha had no idea what Myungjun had been through, but Minhyuk looked expectant, so Sanha had to just nod along. “I guess.”

There was a lull then, silence in their conversation, and Sanha kicked his feet nervously, pondering over Minhyuk's words.

Myungjun deserved loving parents. Minhyuk didn't want to trade places with Myungjun because _Myungjun deserved loving parents_. Which would entail that _Minhyuk's_ parents weren't loving; maybe they weren't loving for magic users, or maybe they weren't loving in general.

“Hyung?”

“What?”

Sanha didn't know how to go about asking his question, so he did what he normally did and blurted out his inquiries. “Are your parents not very loving?”

Minhyuk took to tapping his finger on top of his knee, obviously considering the question. “My dad was,” he finally replied.

 _Was._ Something he couldn't question was the _was_ in that statement. He remembered Myungjun's words after he had run from home; his parents _are_ loving. But Minhyuk used _was._

Sanha waited for more, for further explanation, but Minhyuk fell silent after that. He simply cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling with the usual lackadaisical stare he plastered on his face when he didn't want to discuss something.

So Sanha looked away. He wouldn't pry. The fact that Minhyuk had already revealed the small bit of information he _had_ was good enough for Sanha.

Besides, it wasn't Sanha's place to know Minhyuk's past. If Minhyuk wanted to keep it a secret, that was fine, and if Minhyuk wanted to tell, that was also fine. Sanha could just listen, offer advice when necessary, and be the best friend he could possibly be.

But the silence was just overwhelming. Sanha never liked to hear _nothing._ “I've never been anywhere without my parents, Minhyuk-hyung.”

Minhyuk looked a little sleepy as he blinked blearily in Sanha's direction. “Really?” Just like that, his previous troubles and worries were thrown aside. “Even on a school trip?”

“School trips don't count, because you're surrounded by all of your classmates and teachers,” Sanha responded smartly. “I meant, like...I've never done something like _this_. Run away from home and go off to areas I've never been to before. Like Jecheon. Have you ever been to Jecheon?”

“No,” Minhyuk responded truthfully.

“Neither have I. I haven't even read much about it, actually. I don't know much about what it's like.”

Minhyuk gave a soft hum as he closed his eyes. “Maybe it'll be fun.”

“Maybe.” But Sanha doubted that, especially considering that they weren't there to have _fun._ They were there to find the witch and get the stupid bracelet off of Sanha's arm, and then hopefully they could get back home and no problems would ever arise again.

“Minhyuk-hyung, what am I supposed to do about all of the police officers who saw my label?” he asked. “What if word has spread, an-and everyone knows now that I'm a magic user? What if my parents are homeless when I finally come back? What if they hate me for leaving them?”

Minhyuk didn't open his eyes, but he scooted closer to Sanha, until he was leaning on the much taller boy. “Then,” he murmured, “We'll figure something out. But none of that will happen. Dongmin has it under control, and your parents would _never_ hate you. I know loving parents when I see them – they remind me of Myungjun's parents.”

“And Myungjun's parents loved him, even though he ran away?”

Minhyuk nodded his head. “Even though he ran away.”

“An-And even though he's a magic user?”

“That's not something you can ever change, Sanha, and I think your parents love you regardless of your magic.”

Even though Sanha _knew_ this already, it was nice to have it confirmed with a second opinion. And, sure, Minhyuk might have been agreeing just because he wanted to sleep, but at least he was doing his part in comforting Sanha.

“When does the bus come?” Sanha asked again.

He remembered the time, and he mouthed it as Minhyuk muttered it: “Six.”

“What are you going to do until then?”

“Sleep,” Minhyuk responded. His head was heavy on Sanha's shoulder, but Sanha wasn't dare going to move it. Being in such close proximity made him smile lightly, made his cheeks flush red, made his heart pound in his chest.

“Can I sleep, too?” he questioned quietly.

Minhyuk chuckled, positioning himself so that Sanha's head could rest right on top of his own. “I guess you can, Sanha. It'll mess up your hair, though.” He peeked through one eye at Sanha's messy bedhead and snorted. “Though I don't think anyone will notice.”

“You're a jerk, Hyung.” Sanha took the offer, though, leaning his head so he was supported by Minhyuk. This was way more intimate than he assumed they would ever be, but he couldn't find it in him to care too much. The worry and fear still had yet to ebb away, and now joining those two emotions was fatigue. He closed his eyes and curled his legs closer to himself. “We're just friends, right?” he murmured.

Minhyuk yawned. “Just friends,” he confirmed.

Maybe _just friends_ didn't sleep cuddled up closer together; Sanha wouldn't really know, considering he had never done such a thing to any of his friends. But certainly friends _would_ go on life-threatening adventures in order to help each other out, wouldn't they?

(Sanha would have to ask Minhyuk if he had any life-threatening adventures to go on after this, in order to repay the favor.)

Minhyuk woke first from the short nap. His movements stirred Sanha, who blinked around wearily before noticing the sudden influx of people. “Mm, is it six?” he mumbled out his question.

Minhyuk was yawning some more, and he looked down at his phone. “Almost. I'm sure we can go ahead and board now, though, if you're ready.”

Sanha was. He rose from his feet, still completely exhausted, and stumbled after Minhyuk, who seemed much more wide awake now. They stopped at a vending machine for drinks, a meager breakfast compared to the ones Sanha was used to back at home.

(Minhyuk wasn't. “Myungjun can't cook very well, despite owning a bakery, but that's nothing compared to how Jinwoo used to cook before I had to teach him, so expecting a yummy breakfast every morning is pointless, unless I make it myself.”)

The bus they boarded had only a few other travelers, mostly tired men whose faces were smushed against the windows as they tried to gain a few last hours of sleep before they headed off to their own destination. Minhyuk led Sanha to the back, which Sanha was thankful for; the less people around to stare at him, the easier it would be to hide his marking under Minhyuk's wristband.

“This doesn't go straight to Jecheon, does it?” Sanha asked.

“Nah. We'll stop in Seoul first.” Minhyuk had the window seat, and Sanha pouted; Minhyuk was going to enjoy all of the pretty sights, and Sanha was going to have to be left to his own devices for entertainment.

“How long is the ride to Seoul?”

“About two hours, I guess.”

“And how long is the ride to Jecheon from Seoul?”

Minhyuk looked over at the younger boy in amusement. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, and he suddenly shoved Sanha's shoulder. “You didn't plan this trip through at all, did you? At this point, I'm pretty sure but Myungjun and Jinwoo have planned out all of our stops better than _you_ have.”

“It was a split-second decision!” Sanha whined, and when Minhyuk laughed at him, he pouted, slouching over in his seat to show off how displeased he was with Minhyuk's attitude.

“Lesson number one, Sanha: when you run away from home, at least have a plan set out. Where do you think I would be if I just ran from _my_ home without knowing where I was going and what I was going to be doing?”

Sanha wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question or not, but he figured it was safer if he answered it. “You'd probably still be with Myungjun-hyung. I think he would take you in whether or not you had it all planned out. I mean, he took Jinwoo in like that, didn't he?”

One day Jinwoo hadn't been there, and the next day, there he was. Sanha's mother wasn't too sure about the arrangement. “I think three young boys in an apartment is a bit too much,” she had mumbled upon making contact with Jinwoo one morning. She actually grew fond of him when he offered to help her pot one of her flowers she kept outside the apartment.

( _Now_ Sanha knew why her flower had died off a few hours later, and _now_ he knew why it was back to life again a few hours after _that_. At least Myungjun and Jinwoo complimented each other well.)

Minhyuk snorted. “Myungjun was _dying_ to take in Jinwoo, I think, from the moment he met Jinwoo.”

“How did they meet, anyway?”

Minhyuk did a quick scan of the bus, ensuring that most of the passengers were out of earshot or too sleepy to pay attention, and he muttered in response, “He needed help bringing flowers back to life, so he came to Myungjun-hyung's shop. For the most part, only magic-users or magic-user supporters know about it. It's secret. You have to actually be trusted enough to get the knowledge or where it is and what exactly Myungjun does.”

Sanha blinked. That was rather interesting. He had been wondering about how people seemed to _know_ about Myungjun's powers when Myungjun only ever did them in secret. “So Jinwoo was trusted?”

“He sells potions sometimes to clients. I'm assuming a regular client told him where Myungjun's shop was located.”

“He sells potions? That's illegal-”

“We've already established that Jinwoo isn't entirely _legal_ himself, what with being a witch and all. Besides, how else is he supposed to make an income? He never finished school.”

“What?”

“Myungjun didn't, either.”

Even without a label, it seemed, those with powers were already outcasts. Once the word got out that they were magic-users, life became difficult, and according to the things Minhyuk was implying, life was far more dangerous as an outed magic-user. Sanha had never experienced such things. His existence had been one filled with love and support, an understanding that his powers would never be spoken of around anyone other than his immediate family members.

Now that Sanha knew how Myungjun and Jinwoo had lived, he realized he would have to grow used to the mistreatment and injustice that would most likely become abundant in his life; especially with a bracelet meant for high-level magic-users.

“Minhyuk-hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“If I don't get this bracelet off, I'm not going to go back home.”

“You're making split-second decisions again.” Minhyuk didn't look very impressed with Sanha's admission, and he seemed to wave it off as nonsense. Sanha swallowed thickly as his friend continued, “Of course we're going back home. We-”

“No, _I'm_ not going back home.” Sanha couldn't bear to face anyone he was close to after this. He would simply bring them all down; Myungjun and Jinwoo had finally found happiness, Dongmin and Bin had nice jobs, his poor _parents –_ god, his parents – might be persecuted against as well.

And Minhyuk, who was too sweet and helpful to deal with Sanha's baggage, would never be given the opportunities as a normal person. He would be in line with the magic-user sympathizers, treated in some aspects as if they were just as dangerous.

Sanha met Minhyuk's gaze for a few seconds, that piercing glare cutting right through him. “Sanha.” Minhyuk's voice was taut. “ _We are_ going back home.”

He couldn't really disagree, not with the way Minhyuk was staring at him, so he nodded his head in resignation.

Minhyuk sighed and slumped against the window, and Sanha planned out where he would live should he be unable to complete his mission.

Wherever it was, he was sure it would be lonely by himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im way off my list of how the chapters are supposed to be divided up, so it actually will end up being longer than i had originally planned!
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) so i can buy myself pretty galaxy-colored yarn, wow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk took a deep breath. “I didn't know witches were slobs. Jinwoo's actually pretty clean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was difficult to write because of all the weird transitions that i needed to happen. next chapter is just them trying to convince a witch to help out _and we'll see how that goes_.

Seoul was big and loud and Sanha would have _loved_ to explore every last inch of the city had he and Minhyuk not been on a slight time crunch. “Just enough time to grab some food from the vending machine,” Minhyuk had muttered as they exited their first bus hurriedly, bags slung behind them.

It was too crowded, and Sanha kept pushing his sleeve down in order to hide the bracelet that was just underneath. The last thing he needed at this point was to accidentally brush up against someone and have his label shown for the whole world to see.

(And, sure, it might have been _just Seoul_ , but _just Seoul_ was basically the world, it looked like.)

“This was my first time in Seoul,” Sanha murmured quietly as their bus pulled out. He had the window seat this time, and he leaned his forehead on the glass as he watched the hustle and bustle of city life become less and less. “”I expected more.”

“I bet you expected to _not_ have that thing on,” Minhyuk responded as he opened a bag of chips he had bought. “Once we're all done – once it's off – then we should come back to Seoul and look around for a while.”

Sanha gave a slight noise of agreement, though the fact that Minhyuk would rather go with _him_ than with Myungjun was surprising. He knew the two boys had a very strong, close bond together, and he felt as if he was getting in the way of that.

Sometime on the journey to Jecheon, Sanha mentioned that: “Maybe Myungjun-hyung would rather you go visit Seoul with him.”

And Minhyuk, half-asleep, had blinked over at Sanha in clear confusion. “Huh?”

“I said that maybe Myungjun-hyung-”

“I-I know what you said, Sanha. It's...” Minhyuk glanced down at his watch. “Have you really been thinking about that for a whole hour?”

Sanha looked away sheepishly, and Minhyuk scoffed. “Like _hell_ I'd go with Myungjun. I mean, have you _seen_ how gross he is with Jinwoo? The two of them act like they can't be apart for more than twelve seconds, so if _he_ decided to go with me, Jinwoo would also come, and I'm not going to be a third-wheel on a dream trip to Seoul.”

Minhyuk was acting angry with his friends, but there was mirth in his tone, a slight joy in his gaze when discussing Myungjun and Jinwoo. Sanha smiled softly, his worries about Minhyuk's happiness easing up slightly. “Maybe we can all go.”

“By all, do you mean-”

“Myungjun and Jinwoo and Bin-”

“Why are we inviting people we barely know on our dream trip?”

Sanha shrugged his shoulders. He really _didn't_ know Bin all that well, but he _liked_ him. Even if Bin slightly threatened him into shapeshifting, and even if Bin was partially the reason Sanha was labeled in the first place, Bin had never _really_ meant any harm.

Besides, maybe he just needed a vacation. Maybe he was overworked.

“Dongmin-hyung, too, I guess. He seems nice.”

“He read my mind,” Minhyuk pouted. “And Myungjun didn't even _do_ anything about it. Myungjun just switched subjects, and I bet Dongmin _still_ reads my mind.”

“I wonder if mind-reading is something you can turn off,” Sanha muttered, slouching down in his seat in order to get more comfortable. “Maybe he can't help but just _read minds_. Maybe he looks at someone and he's read their mind, even if he doesn't want to. Yuck, that must be loud and irritating. What if people had nasty thoughts about you?”

Minhyuk appeared far more focused on the fact that _his_ mind had been read rather than the curious aspect of Dongmin's abilities in the first place. “If I have nasty thoughts, I want to keep my nasty thoughts in here.” He tapped his head and stared at the seat ahead of him with a short huff.

Sanha fell silent for a few seconds before giggling. “Hyung, _do_ you have nasty thoughts?”

“You sound like Myungjun!” came Minhyuk's groan, and he buried his head into his hands, shaking it lightly. “ _No_ , I don't. And you shouldn't be asking that, anyway!”

It probably was a little rude to ask someone, but Sanha was beyond the point now of caring what most others thought of him. And, besides, he was _friends_ with Minhyuk. And friends asked this sort of thing, didn't they?

Maybe not. Maybe friends kept quiet about _that_ and talked about normal, friend-related things.

Sanha tried to remember all of the conversations he had with his friends back in his college courses before finally landing on the most basic of all of them: “The weather's nice.”

Suffice to say, Minhyuk was certainly skilled in delivering a variety of looks, as Sanha learned, and one of those just so happened to be the look of, _what the hell are you talking about?_

Sanha just decided to bunker down and take a nap instead, reminding Minhyuk to watch his bags and wake him when they arrived in Jecheon. Minhyuk agreed rather easily, though Sanha had to make sure. “You're not tired at all?” he asked as he tried to curl his legs up on himself the best he could.

“I ate a whole bag of chips and I also drank an energy drink,” Minhyuk responded, and he gave Sanha's messy hair a soft pat. “ _You_ look like death, though.”

Sanha shook his head. “But I'm only a little bit tired. If you wanted to take a nap, _I_ could be the lookout.”

“I doubt you'd do anything if someone came up and started stealing my bags. You don't have a mean bone in your body.”

That was false, because Sanha _hated_ the police chief for putting that stupid bracelet anywhere near his arm, but he was going to continue to let Minhyuk believe that he was free from all terrible thoughts. “You'd be surprised, Hyung. I used to be the line-leader in preschool, and I'd tell the teacher if someone skipped.”

“So, what, you'll wake me up to let me know our bags just got stolen?”

“Yup.”

Minhyuk looked amused, and Sanha considered his job to be well-done when the older boy sported a grin. “I'll beat up whoever tries to steal from us, so in the end, who do you think would act as a better lookout?”

Sanha returned the smile with a wide one of his own, and he leaned up against the window. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he tried his best to pull up his legs, but they were too lanky to do much with, so he decided he would have to make do with the position he _was_ able to get in. “I think you do, Hyung.”

Minhyuk would be good at beating people up, probably. Sanha had seen his muscles (unwillingly, of course, but he didn't think he regretted being able to see them), and he could probably really do some damage if he tried. He was tough, both physically and mentally.

And if brawn failed, he could probably bad-mouth the criminal until the criminal would end up crying. At least, that was what Sanha would do if someone bad-mouthed him.

 _Especially_ if it was Minhyuk.

“Don't talk bad about me ever, okay?” he asked as he closed his eyes and slumped over in his seat. “Because if you do, I'll cry.”

“Can you just go to sleep and stop thinking up weird, hypothetical situations, Sanha?”

“Is it hypothetical because you'll _never_ talk bad about me?”

Minhyuk snorted, but he didn't respond. He just reached over and ruffled Sanha's hair again, a comforting move that made a smile appear on the younger boy's face as sleep grabbed him and pulled him away from the bright sunlight that filtered in between the trees they passed.

Fortunately, Minhyuk didn't wake him up by punching bag-stealing criminals. “Everything went smoothly enough,” Minhyuk had muttered as they neared the station in Jecheon. The bags were already in Minhyuk's hands, and once Sanha was blinking sleep out of his eyes and yawning widely, Minhyuk passed his small backpack over.

“What's the plan now?” Sanha asked.

Even if this had originally been Sanha's idea in the first place, he was thankful Minhyuk was there to act as his support. Minhyuk _had_ been correct; Sanha should have planned out his trip before actually doing anything. As it was, Minhyuk seemed skilled in the art of planning out their next steps, and so Sanha would rely on him for the time being.

“There's a hotel not too far away,” Minhyuk responded as they exited the bus. “It's cheap enough, too, so I doubt Myungjun will get upset if we spend the night there. We'll get us a room and drop our bags off before looking over the address you have listed for the first witch.” The older boy continued to check his phone, ensuring that they were headed to the correct location.

Sanha stumbled along after him; he slightly regretted his decision to wake up so early and run away from home. He wondered if his parents had found his note yet, if they were worried about him yet, if they had tried calling him yet.

But he didn't want to look down at his phone, in fear he might intensify the longing in his chest. His phone was on silent, but if he were to check, he was certain he would find several missed calls from his loving, doting parents, requesting him to come back home.

It was better for them, though. He _knew_ it was better; he had to convince himself it was better, or else he would long to turn back and reunite with his mother and father.

“Are you okay?” Minhyuk asked after a while of silence.

Sanha quickly nodded his head. “Just...thinking.”

“About this whole situation?”

Sanha didn't respond at first, but he finally muttered, “Minhyuk-hyung, I-I _can't_ look at my phone. If I check all the missed calls, what if-”

Minhyuk instantly held out his hand, wiggling his fingers at Sanha. “Give it here,” he demanded. “We can block their numbers-”

“My parents?”

“If...if you want to. That's what Myungjun did when he ran away, so that way he wouldn't have to deal with seeing their names pop up in his phone.” Minhyuk swiped a tongue over his lips, then dropped his arm. “Of course, um, your situation is different, since you _are_ going back to live with them once we convince a witch to take that bracelet off.”

But it was still up in the air whether or not they would be able to do such a thing. And the more Sanha thought about it, the more he realized he would probably be stuck with the label for the rest of his life. If witches were so willing to work for the government and label other magical users, they probably wouldn't be _as_ willing to release magic users from the labels they had created.

So he handed over his phone, and when he noticed a flash of worry pass over Minhyuk's face, he mumbled, “Just for now. Once we get it off, I guess, I can unblock them.”

He didn't sound very convincing; Minhyuk didn't look very convinced. “Right,” the older boy said anyway, and he proceeded to delete all of the missed calls and the missed texts before blocking the number completely from Sanha's phone.

The weight in Sanha's chest felt worse, and he swallowed past a lump in his throat as he pocketed his phone once more.

The hotel that Minhyuk had chosen was small and cramped. Their room consisted of one bed and a tiny television set, but Minhyuk offered to sleep on the floor.

“No, _I'll_ sleep on the floor,” Sanha retorted. “I'm taller, so-”

“So you deserve the bed,” Minhyuk interrupted. “Besides, I don't really sleep on my bed too often. I sleep on the couch back at home, so the floor's not really much of a transition from that.”

Sanha shook his head as he deposited their bags nearby. “I'll sleep on the floor. The bed's pretty small, so I might fall off of it, anyway.”

Neither of them seemed willing to back down, and in the end, Minhyuk had only said, “We'll discuss it when we get back tonight,” before motioning for Sanha to follow him out of the room.

“Do you really think it will take until night to get this bracelet off of me?” Sanha questioned. He pulled out his sheet of addresses, Dongmin's handwriting seemingly mocking him as he was reminded of the dangers that the task at hand entailed. “Maybe they'll be like Jinwoo-hyung and agree to it easily.” He didn't believe his own words; he hadn't believed they would be anything _but_ terrible, evil witches from the moment he had learned that the bracelet around his wrist was magic.

And Minhyuk, in all his optimism, shrugged his shoulders and murmured, “We can hope that it'll be quick.”

Hope was all they had. It was a thin string of hope, and Sanha pulled at it desperately. It threatened to snap at any moment, and with each step the two boys took, Sanha realized that there was no way the string would hold him up.

His hope would break in due time. It was just a matter of waiting for that time to come.

It wasn't like him to be so pessimistic, though. Sanha was bright and cheerful and looked for the best in situations – at least, that was what his mother always commented whenever he tried to comfort her after particularly hard times in life. If he wanted to get through this without breaking down, he would have to lose his pessimism and focus solely on the fact that _he would be fine_.

So he slapped his cheeks a few times as they neared the address. His movement caught Minhyuk's attention.

“Are you okay, Sanha?”

“Gearing myself up,” came Sanha's response, and Minhyuk's lips turned upwards in a slight smile.

“We'll be alright. You know that, don't you? Nothing bad will happen to us, Sanha. I mean, you have me right here, okay? I won't let anything bad happen to you.”

Minhyuk was the greatest of all friends. Sanha didn't know if anyone else was fortunate enough to have a friend like Minhyuk; Minhyuk was currently the only constant in Sanha's chaotic life, and to display his gratitude, he shot the boy beside him a soft smile, the smallest of grins, and nodded his head.

“Right back at you, Hyung. I'll fight off all the witches if they try to hurt you.”

“How on earth will _you_ fight them off? You look like a scarecrow.”

Sanha gave a scoff. They turned the corner, away from the light movement of cars just a street down from them, but Sanha wasn't too nervous yet. After all, he _did_ have Minhyuk with him, and he was certain that things would turn out just fine as long as Minhyuk was by his side. “You're just jealous because you're almost as short as Myungjun-hyung is.”

“I'm not jealous of a bean stalk. Especially not of one with orange hair.”

“Hey! You _like_ my orange hair! I dyed it specifically for you.”

“Doubt that.”

Sanha stuck his tongue out. Minhyuk returned the gesture and moved to say more, but a loud bark brought both of them out of their mock argument. Sanha only jumped slightly, and they looked at the tiny house just ahead.

A dog was chained to the side of the house; it was skinny and dirty and mangy and Sanha felt bad for it, noticing the ravenous look in its eyes. Littered about the house were a few trashbags, plastic bottles that should have been recycled, broken lampshades and potted plants that had already wilted away.

(Myungjun would have been pissed at that, Sanha thought, trying to keep his own spirits up.)

“This isn't the house, is it?” Sanha whispered. The two of them glanced at the sheet in Sanha's hand, then at the mailbox close by the house. The numbers matched up.

Minhyuk took a deep breath. “I didn't know witches were slobs. Jinwoo's actually pretty clean.”

“Maybe witches just can't care for plants.” Sanha gestured over at a dying sunflower.

“This one can't, at least, no more than it can care for that poor dog.”

The dog tugged at its chain, but it was clear that it was stuck where it was, on the tiny plot of land surrounded by filth.

“Maybe we should check with the other witches first,” Sanha murmured.

Minhyuk almost looked as if he wanted to agree, but after pondering their position for a few seconds, he shook his head. “We came all the way to Jecheon, so we need to start with this one, first. I-I mean, worst that will happen is that she says no, right?”

“She's a witch. I don't _want_ to know the worst that can happen.” Sanha stuffed the paper back into his pocket and took a deep breath, eyeing the dog one last time. “What's the plan? D-Do we just knock on the door and explain the situation?”

“I think so. I mean, that's really the only thing we _can_ do, isn't it?” He cleared his throat and took a step forward. “I'll go ahead of you. It might work better if I start it.”

“I'm the one asking for the help, though.”

Minhyuk hesitated, and Sanha watched as he glanced at the door and then at the dog, still whimpering and growling at the strangers on its property. “Let me do it. You can do the next one if I can deal with this one.”

It still didn't seem fair, but Minhyuk was already moving to the front of the house, and by the time Sanha caught up, Minhyuk had delivered five loud knocks to the door. The paint was peeling all around the house, and a few of the windows seemed cracked. Sanha didn't like the atmosphere, and he tugged at Minhyuk's shoulder. “Maybe we should leave and ask Dongmin-hyung to help us. The, um, th-the police might be better trained-”

He was unable to finish spouting off his nonsensical idea, however, because the door opened just then. A lady had answered, someone Sanha would have categorized as _elderly_. At least, she looked older, what with the wrinkles on her pale face and the graying in her dirty hair. Greasy bangs hung down in her eyes as she glared at the two boys on her porch.

Sanha lost track of what he was trying to tell Minhyuk.

Minhyuk, fortunately (or unfortunately) didn't lose track of what _he_ needed to tell the witch.

“Sorry for intruding, but you make bracelets for magic users, right?”

He waited until the lady nodded her head, then gave a sigh of relief. “Can...can you take the bracelets _off_ of magic users?”

It took her longer to nod, but she confirmed Minhyuk's question, then opened her door wider. “I need to take a better look at it,” she said. Her voice was hoarse and rough and devoid of the warmth and friendliness that Jinwoo's held. Sanha began to think that maybe Jinwoo was a rare exception to the _witches are evil_ rule. “Come on inside.”

She turned and shuffled slightly away, not bothering to wait and see if she would be followed. Minhyuk looked worried as he stared after her.

“Sanha?” he muttered. “Maybe we _should_ have gotten Dongmin-hyung.”

“She said she'd do it, though.”

“Yeah, but...this place gives me the creeps.”

Sanha might have misjudged how close he and Minhyuk truly were, but at the moment, he felt as if both of them deserved some form of comforting contact. He reached down and grabbed Minhyuk's hand. The older boy looked at him in shock, and Sanha prayed that his cheeks weren't red.

“Me, too,” Sanha agreed. “But, um...we can deal with her creepy place for a bit, right? I-I'm sure it won't take that long. And then we can go back home and things will be fine.”

Minhyuk blinked before his eyes traveled to their intertwined fingers. “Ri-Right,” he stammered out, and after one last deep breath, he stepped inside the house, Sanha following close behind.

Sanha's consoling words might have worked on Minhyuk, but as they walked farther into the house, Sanha himself couldn't shake the feeling that maybe they shouldn't have gone to Jecheon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she needs to recycle, bc recycling is good for the environment! recycle, pls.
> 
> hmu on my tumblr page; i'm making oneshots every so often for this series, and if you have anything you want to see, i want to hear it! [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) is where the cool people hang out. ;D
> 
> SIDENOTE, check out some beautiful fanart that my lovely friends made for this fic: christine with [CUTE SLEEPY SOCKY](http://summer-soda.tumblr.com/post/161489379954/drawing-of-socky-taking-a-nap-before-going-on) and mina with [SAD CRYING SANHA IM SORRY](http://daeminanalo.tumblr.com/post/161172251191/sanha-in-vonseals-shifter-i-call-this-piece). i love these two pieces, im gonna frame them and tattoo them


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hands were bloody. The floor was bloody. Sanha was so scared, but he still focused all of his attention on Minhyuk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they were right, it was a bad idea.

The interior of the house wasn't much better than what Sanha had seen outside. It was grimy and dark and just _gross_. Sanha smelled cat pee coming from somewhere, though he didn't see any sign of a cat. Fly traps adorned the ceilings and small pantry moths fluttered about. Sanha noticed Minhyuk knock a few away when they came too close.

“Have a seat,” the lady muttered, and she shuffled over to the fridge. “Would you two like tea?”

“No, thank you. It's-” Sanha started, but he didn't get very far before he noticed her take out some dirty-looking jug filled with what he _assumed_ was tea. “Seriously, we don't-”

She grabbed some mugs laying close by – they _looked_ clean, but Sanha had already made up his mind not to trust _anything_ in the house, so he simply cleared his throat and ducked his head. “Tea's fine,” he mumbled.

She was pouring it regardless of what he said, anyway, so he might as well act as agreeable as possible in order to have her cooperate.

Minhyuk was silent all the while, choosing instead to look around the house. His nose was wrinkled as various scents wafted at them, and he looked positively disgusted when he noticed the mold around the sink, dirty dishes with food still inside of them – most of it looked completely unrecognizable.

Sanha understood the feeling, but he at least tried to smile when the witch delivered their mugs of tea, setting them down on the table hard enough to allow Minhyuk's cup to spill a little bit.

“Thanks,” Sanha said. She grunted as a reply before sitting down across from the two boys, moving some hair out of her eyes. “Um...so, like, uh, like Minhyuk said, um, said before, I need to get this bracelet off of me. I think there was a mistake when it was put on me, because I-”

She was gesturing for him now to hold out his hand, and Sanha blinked nervously before glancing at Minhyuk. He, too, didn't seem very sure of the lady's intentions, but he made his decision finally; “You can show her, Sanha. If she made it, she can take it off.”

It felt too easy, though. Sanha pulled back his sweater and pushed the wristband farther up his arm, revealing the bright red band that wrapped around his wrist.

This felt _way_ too easy. Why _would_ she take it off if she had so willingly made them to be put _on_ magic users?

Bony fingers gripped Sanha's arm. Sanha winced, though more so from the shock of being touched than from actual pain. Beside him, Minhyuk stiffened in his seat, body tense as if he was ready to attack the witch if need be.

(Sanha would stop him from doing that, however; he knew Minhyuk would never win against a witch. It was useless to even have him try it.)

The witch made a small _hmm_ sound in the back of her throat. She examined every inch of the bracelet, acting like she had never seen it before. “You said it was a mistake?” she questioned.

Sanha nodded his head enthusiastically. “They didn't know I was a magic user. They didn't even _expect_ I was a magic user. The chief was just showing us how it didn't work against _normal_ people, and he thought I was normal, so he-”

“But you _are_ a magic user.” The witch released Sanha's hand quickly, letting it fall down to the grimy, messy table. He jerked it away before it could rest in the filth for too long. “And so it belongs on you.”

“It belongs on _powerful_ magic users,” Minhyuk broke in with a snap. Two sets of eyes turned on him, and he cleared his throat from the sudden attention. “It...it belongs on dangerous magic users. That's what we were told.”

“And who told you that?” With a scoff, the lady leaned back in her chair and regarded the two boys curiously. “I wouldn't mind them on _all_ magic users. The more of you that wear the bracelet, the easier life is for me.”

Minhyuk's glare was noticeable, even when Sanha merely glanced over at him. “ _You're_ a magic user, too,” he reminded the witch. “What if someone had tagged you? What if _you_ had to live-”

“I have to live as a witch, which is already a challenge by itself. More so than _you_ will ever face,” she added to Sanha, then crossed her arms over her chest.

And, honestly, Sanha couldn't refute that point. He had no idea what it was like to live hiding away in fear from being a witch – at least _shifters_ weren't killed like witches were. So rather than respond, he bit his lip and nodded his head.

Minhyuk, however, wasn't as easy to convince as Sanha was. “So you know how difficult it is, then, for magic users to live when people know who they are?”

She turned a blank gaze onto Minhyuk, who still didn't seem to back down. Sanha was growing worried with his reckless behavior. “Why are you going to make Sanha go through that life? He's young, and you don't _care_ about how people will view him? He won't be able to do _anything_ if he has this bracelet around him, so why can't you just take it off. It's just _one_ magic user, just _please_ take his bracelet off!” Minhyuk, apparently, had resorted to pleading, his voice raising in pitch as he begged for Sanha's release.

The witch was undeterred. “If I take one bracelet off, I'll have to take bracelets off for everyone else who comes my way. Why would I spend so much time creating them just to remove them again?” She looked indifferent as she shrugged her shoulders and continued, “The government discovered I was a witch. They came after me, but they offered me this task in exchange for my protection. As long as I don't use my magic for anything else, they would allow me to live. And if you think I'm going to give up their trust in order to help some snot-nosed brat-”

“Sanha isn't a brat!” Minhyuk exclaimed. “And this bracelet is supposed to be for high-level magic users! Sanha is just a shifter, so why the hell would you let it stay on him? Like he said, it was a _mistake_.”

But the witch was shaking her head, adamant in her stance. “If it was a mistake, so be it. He got it put on his wrist, and now he's stuck with it.” She stood from her seat slowly, a little wobbly on her feet, and her eyes moved from Minhyuk's angry expression to Sanha's disappointed frown. “You look like you've lived a cozy life up until now,” she fussed. Sanha detected nothing but bitter resentment in her tone, and he felt confused at that. _Why_ would she hate him so much? He had done nothing wrong to anybody. Why was he worthy of such hatred? “Maybe you'll finally have the chance to know what it feels like to be an outcast in society, like the rest of us witches.”

_Like Jinwoo_ , Sanha thought fearfully. Jinwoo must have been through a lot, as well, what with having been murdered and all.

And, yet, Jinwoo never seemed to hate Sanha. Jinwoo showed kindness to him, even after knowing that he was a magic user who lived happily and without many worries. Jinwoo had offered to come along with him on the journey, and when he was unable to, he had promised to call and check up on the both of them to ensure that they remained safe.

Jinwoo didn't hate him. Jinwoo _knew_ him, and Jinwoo didn't hate him.

This witch, though, hated him. Her eyes burned with such malice that Sanha felt as if he _had_ done something to offend her in some way. Maybe it was the tea. Maybe she was upset he didn't drink the tea.

He grabbed it quickly, and he ignored Minhyuk's small, sudden squeak of, “Sanha, wait!” before gulping some of it down.

It was disgusting.

Sanha didn't know how _old_ it was, or what it even was in the first place, because it definitely did not taste like any tea Sanha was familiar with. He choked slightly before giving the witch a soft smile, trying to hide his disgust underneath the curve in his lips.

“Delicious!” he lied. “Thank you for the tea!”

The witch narrowed her eyes at him before shaking her head. “I need to use the restroom,” she mumbled under her breath. “You boys stay there, and...I'll see what I can do about that bracelet of yours.”

The hallway she went down was dark and it looked just as dirty as her dining room appeared to be. Sanha waited until she turned a corner before gagging and pushing the mug of tea away from him.

“That _sucks!_ ” he choked out to Minhyuk, trying to massage his throat. “What even _is_ this?”

“Something you probably shouldn't have drank. What the hell is the matter with you?” Minhyuk rubbed at Sanha's back as the younger boy coughed once or twice. “Why are you treating her nicely? She's a btich!”

Sanha was finally able to get his stomach to stop trying to churn up the drink, and he sighed. “Don't say that, Hyung. She just seems upset because people don't trust her. But she said she'd see what she can do about the bracelet when she comes back from the bathroom! That's...that's good enough, isn't it? She might actually take it off for me, and then we can go home!”

Sanha's optimism wasn't as contagious when he himself felt a slight twinge of doubt and worry prick at his heart. Surely she _would_ come back and help take the bracelet off, wouldn't she? Her words had implied as much, in any case, and Sanha hoped he had made a good enough impression on her to get her to agree.

But when he noticed the hesitation and concern in Minhyuk's eyes, he realized that maybe he had made a mistake.

“Do you not think she'll do it?” he whispered.

Minhyuk instantly shook his head. “She's insane,” he whispered back. “She's _batshit_ _insane_ , Sanha. She invited us in here to serve us some gross tea and berate you for living a better life than she does. Screw _that_ – Jinwoo lives a better life, and _he's_ a witch. He's just not a stupid one to get tangled up in this sort of mess.”

Even though Minhyuk's words were harsh, and even if the witch _did_ sort of deserve it, Sanha couldn't help but feel bad for her. “Her only other option was to allow the government to kill her,” he pointed out quietly. “What choice did she have?”

“Would _you_ throw other magic users under the bus?” Minhyuk asked.

Sanha gnawed at his bottom lip for a few seconds. He honestly didn't know whether he would or not. The offer to _live_ was far more tempting than to die, in any case, and so he slowly shrugged his shoulders in response to Minhyuk. “I-I wouldn't know unless I was in that position,” he murmured. “And I hope I never am in that position.”

“Which is why we need to get that bracelet off of you as soon as possible.” Minhyuk tapped at the table with a huff. “Where _is_ she?”

“Girls usually take longer in the bathroom,” Sanha helpfully supplied. “My mom always takes ages to get ready in the morning.”

Or, she _had_ , back when Sanha lived with them. Now he would give anything to be back at home, even if his mother used up most of the hot water in her shower and left the bathroom foggy and steamy. He longed to pout and fuss at her as she laughed and apologized for making him slightly late to school. She would always give him a kiss, though, even if she had to stand on her tip-toes to do so, and tell him that she wouldn't take up his time again.

But he would let her take up his time. If he got back home without the bracelet, he would _cherish_ all the time she spent in the shower and all the time he spent complaining as his dad simply listened to their struggle from his room as he readied himself for work.

Life was perfect back then. He felt a strong, sudden desire to get it back to how it used to be.

“It shouldn't take her _this_ long.” Minhyuk broke through his thoughts with his impatient words. “I don't want to sit in this creepy house for any longer than necessary; if she's not going to take your bracelet off, we should just leave.”

And, with that, Minhyuk stood from his seat. Sanha was a little slower to do so, not quite prepared to give up his hope just yet. “Minhyuk,” he whined. “We shouldn't-”

“Wait!” Minhyuk held a hand up, stopping Sanha in his requests. The older boy's eyes were wide as he stared at a window nearby.

Sanha saw headlights.

“Someone parked here,” Minhyuk hissed. “Sanha, _someone's here_.”

Even if he didn't quite know what was going on just yet, Sanha felt his heart beat quicker in his chest. “Who?”

As if the witch had been listening into their conversation, she appeared again, hobbling through the darkness of the hallway. Minhyuk didn't tear his fearful gaze away from the window, but Sanha did, and he noticed the smugness on her face.

“Wh-Who's here?” he repeated quietly.

He was terrified of the answer.

The witch didn't respond. She only made her way to the front door.

“You called the _police?_ ” Minhyuk asked harshly, and he backed up. “You called the fucking _police?_ ”

“You two would have pestered me all night. It's a far better fate if you and your pet shifter are locked up in jail for your crimes. Didn't you two know that trying to get out of government-issued bondage is _illegal?_ ”

Sanha felt sick to his stomach again, but it wasn't the tea this time. “We didn't do anything!” he exclaimed in a panic. “Mi-Minhyuk and I didn't _do_ anything! Please, please don't let them – you can't let them take me! They'll think I-I'm a high-level magic user, and I'm _not_ , I can't-”

Minhyuk didn't seem to want to waste time groveling to the woman, however. He grabbed Sanha's wrist, hiding the label, and pulled him backwards. “Back exit,” he snapped, and Sanha instantly understood; they could run through the back door, before the police came up through the front entrance, and hopefully outpace the police in time. It was a quick window of opportunity, but Sanha was willing to risk it.

The witch spun around suddenly from her trek to the front door, though, and she muttered something inaudible, something garbled, something _magic_. Sanha recognized the finger movement, too, the slicing through the air that she did with her thumb. Jinwoo had done a similar move to shut up Myungjun just hours before, but this one -

This one didn't shut up Minhyuk. In fact, Minhyuk screamed, loudly and stumbled backwards before falling down to his knees. Sanha watched in bewilderment first, absolutely confused, and then he took action, scrambling to Minhyuk's side in order to figure out just what the witch had done.

There was blood.

It was almost immediate after Sanha bent down, red soaking through the front of Minhyuk's shirt. It spread quickly, and Sanha didn't know what to do.

“Minhyuk?” he screeched, trembling hands coming up. He didn't know what to _touch_ , what to put pressure on like he had seen in the movies, what to make _stop_ bleeding. He didn't know where it was coming from and what exactly had caused it. All he knew was that Minhyuk was gasping out for breath and blood was dripping down to the floor.

“Oh, g-g-god, _Minhyuk_ , what do I do?” His own hands clutched at his cheeks; he was reduced to watching his best friend struggle in horror. “Minhyuk, _what did she do?_ ”

Minhyuk reached one hand to his chest, pressing down harshly on whatever wound the witch had caused. He cried out, making Sanha gasp in fear. “ _Minhyuk-_ ”

Minhyuk's eyes weren't looking for him, though. Minhyuk, through his tears, was looking to where the witch had gone, to where the front door was located.

“Sanha?” he choked out, breathing harshly.

His hands were bloody. The floor was bloody. Sanha was so scared, but he still focused all of his attention on Minhyuk. “What? What do I do? Minhyuk, te-tell me what happened, what happened to you-”

“Turn into a roach.”

It was an odd request at an odd time, and Sanha blinked. “Minhyuk-”

“Turn into a roach _right now_ , Sanha!” Minhyuk commanded him, and he was shuddering where he sat, swaying slightly from the sudden shock and pain of the wound. “And you go to the back door and you _wait_ -”

“Minhyuk-”

“If you don't do this, Sa-Sanha, I'll _never_ speak to you again.”

“Minhyuk, y-you need an ambulance, you're _hurt-_ ”

“Do it, Sanha!”

Despite how much agony Minhyuk looked to be in, there was such determination and strength in his expression, and Sanha wondered what plan Minhyuk had taken the time to think through. Even in _this_ state, it seemed, Minhyuk's mind was working, devising some way to get them both out of this situation.

And Sanha trusted him completely.

He heard voices coming down the hall, worried policemen speaking into radios, and with one last fearful look exchanged with his best friend, he shifted.

It took up so much energy to shift, even if it _was_ something as simple and tiny as a roach. Keeping himself shifted, too, was a heavy workout, and the moment Sanha became a roach, he felt the fatigue hit. The lack of food he had consumed, coupled with the few uncomfortable hours of sleep he had gotten, made it all the more difficult this time around.

Still, as he scuttled past the drops of blood that were staining the floor, and as he moved past the very large pieces of torn papers and fur and _god knows what else_ the witch had strewn about across the room, he couldn't help but channel Minhyuk's own determination.

The back door was close, and he scurried underneath an overturn box to offer himself more cover and protection.

He peeked his small head out to watch the proceedings in front of him, though; even if everything seemed so weird and different as a roach, he knew he needed to pay close attention in order to figure out just what Minhyuk's plan was, exactly.

Whatever the case, he knew he had turned at the right moment. The police were staring at Minhyuk in concern as he cried and the witch hovered over him, demanding to know, “-where is that damn shifter?”

If roaches could hold their breaths, Sanha was holding his.

“Wha-What shifter?” Minhyuk sobbed out. Maybe he was a good actor, or maybe the wound really _was_ that painful. “I-I'm not a magic user! You g-guys have to help me!” He had turned to the policemen now, the two of them now looking bewildered and confused. “She coaxed me in here t-to help her clean, but I learned she was a wi-witch and I tried to escape, but she did _this_ to me!”

Minhyuk was incredibly convincing. Even though Sanha couldn't quite see his face, he knew that the policemen were falling for his words.

(Their distrust of a witch, even one supposedly on their side, was beneficial to Sanha and Minhyuk at the moment.)

“Maybe he's the shifter?” one policeman whispered to his partner. “Because there's no one else in here.”

The witch looked alarmed, and she reached out quickly and grasped onto Minhyuk's hair. It looked painful, and Sanha almost hurried forward to stop her; however, he caught himself, remembering that he _trusted_ Minhyuk, that they could probably still get out of this together.

“Where _is he?_ ” she screeched in his face. Minhyuk cried louder, and the policeman who had spoken earlier grabbed onto the witch and pulled her back, forcing her to release her hold on Minhyuk.

“Put the bracelet on him!” the policeman snapped to his partner, who was fumbling with something in his pocket. “Because if he's normal, that means she's harming _normal_ people, and that's a clear violation of what the government requested. Not like you _witches_ should get the chance to be trusted, anyway.”

Even if Sanha hadn't been fond of the public's clear hatred of witches before, now it was definitely serving in their favor.

She sputtered and stumbled backwards as the bracelet the policeman had wrapped around Minhyuk's wrist fell down to the floor, refusing to attach itself to anyone not associated with magic.

And then both policemen turned on the witch, their hands quickly moving to draw the guns that lay in holsters on their belts.

“Should we arrest her?” one of them whispered. “Because she just hurt a _normal_ person-”

“He has a partner!” the witch yelled out, voice hoarse and fearful. “There's a shifter in my house! I swear, he's-”

“Maybe we should just shoot her. It's one less witch.”

As they were debating and the witch was still arguing her actions, Minhyuk seemed to take the opportunity to move. He scrambled to his feet, wincing as he did so, and hurried to the back door.

Only the witch noticed him leaving, and she darted forward suddenly, as if trying to catch him. The movement obviously wasn't going to go over well with the policemen – Sanha knew that before the gunshots even rang out. They fired their weapons, probably frightened with the prospect of a witch coming any closer to them, and Sanha didn't know who to watch; Minhyuk, who nearly fell with the unforeseen _bangs_ that vibrated around them, or the witch, who fell backwards to the ground in a crumbled heap.

He didn't have time to look at _much_ , though. Minhyuk had made it to the door and flung it open. “Sanha!” he hissed out.

Sanha realized Minhyuk had no clue where he was, so as the police were yelling into their radios and requesting immediate government assistance to deal with a dead or wounded witch, he took his chance and scurried to Minhyuk's feet.

Minhyuk saw him, opened the door wider, and Sanha rushed outside, into the cold air and tall blades of grass. He heard the dog barking loudly, but he waited until he was a couple feet away from the house to shift back into a human again, gasping out as he did so.

It was a struggle to move; his body longed to rest from his lengthier period of shifting, but even _Minhyuk_ was running, probably coursing by from the adrenaline. Sanha was, at least, and it wasn't until they were a long ways down the street, hidden away by the darkness of an alley, that they both collapsed down. Only their harsh breaths filled the air, and Sanha flung himself on his back to stare up at the cloudy sky.

Minhyuk was leaning against the brick building behind him. His shirt was stained almost completely red at this point, and he lifted the fabric to examine his wounds.

Sanha didn't even freak out this time from the exposure of skin. Instead, as he looked over, he felt terror at the large slash that now covered Minhyuk's chest. Blood still seeped from the cut, and Minhyuk gingerly touched it with a shaking hand.

“Minhyuk-” Sanha started breathlessly, but Minhyuk shook his head.

“It's not...it's not that deep, Sanha. It isn't. I'll be fine. It looks worse than it is.” But he still seemed worried somehow, and he still had to wipe away some tears that were falling down his cheeks.

Sanha still couldn't tear his eyes away from all the blood. “Is...is she dead?” he whispered.

“I don't know.”

“Will _you_ die?”

Sanha couldn't take it if Minhyuk died. Sanha couldn't take it just _looking_ at all the blood soaked onto Minhyuk, and he felt himself sob suddenly. He covered his mouth as Minhyuk glanced at him worriedly.

“I won't die, Sanha.”

It was quiet for a minute or two. Sanha's cries broke through once in a while, and Minhyuk's hisses of pain whenever he moved so much as a muscle weren't a welcome sound, but no one spoke until Minhyuk muttered, “You were right. We should have visited the other witches first.”

Sanha didn't like being right in this case.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you dont recycle, you turn into an evil witch. recycLE!!!
> 
> i have no idea when the next chapter will be up, lovelies! i'll be away from my PC for basically an entire week starting Saturday, so don't expect anything, bc my laptop has been broken for eons and all i have left is my phone and tablet. HOWEVER i will work on drabble requests, so come follow me with that [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com)!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was certain Minhyuk was brushing off the pain in order to make him feel better. There was no way that Minhyuk would be crying over it one moment and then acting nonchalant in the next. It was just to make Sanha feel better – and that knowledge made Sanha's stomach churn with absolute guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back from my short hiatus!!! this chapter is just a lot of talking, but it's got socky cute moments, so i hope this makes up for the mess that happened last chapter.

Sanha was six years old when he discovered that he could shapeshift.

It was shocking for everyone involved, honestly. His older brother had jumped out at him, terrifying him to the point that Sanha screamed and stumbled backwards. Before he could fall on his bottom, however, he felt the world around him grow large; his brother became a giant and the television playing cartoons nearby seemed to be _blaring_ in his ears.

He panicked and tried to say something, but all he felt come out from his mouth was a squeak.

His brother had called for his parents, frightened of what had happened, and his mother cried when she saw what Sanha had become.

He wasn't able to stay that way for too long. He turned back into a human after a minute or two, shaking and sobbing and trying to figure out just _what_ exactly had happened.

It was clear, at the very least, that he was a magic user. He had grown up watching cartoons of valiant heroes slaying those who used magic. His father would come home with exciting stories of having caught magic users, their only crime being the position in which they had been born. Magic users, he was always told, were evil.

But his new powers made his mother turn off the cartoons, and it made his father declare that magic users were just born into unfortunate circumstances.

“You're not evil,” his father would tell him every night with a kiss to his cheek. “You're the most amazing boy in this whole, wide world.”

The only person who never seemed to agree was Sanha's elder brother.

They became distant after Sanha's identity fully came out. His brother would shy away from the affection Sanha would try to bestow upon him, claiming that he didn't feel well or he didn't want to be touched. Sanha was relentless, however, and would continue trying to hang around his brother, until finally his brother one day snapped, “I wish you were dead, Sanha!”

After that, Sanha never spoke to him again. They ignored each other, pretended the other didn't exist. It upset his mother, who tried countless times to talk to her eldest son, but nothing ever came out of it.

His brother left as soon as he finished high school. He told their father, “If you continue to call him a son, I'm not going to consider myself part of this family anymore. You have to choose – him or me?”

Sanha's father had been silent for a few seconds. Sanha clinged to his mother's skirt, holding his breath, and heard his father finally mumble, “I'm not throwing Sanha aside. I love him as much as I love you.”

His brother vanished after that. They never heard from him, save for the sudden phone calls threatening to never return unless Sanha was gone.

It made Sanha feel sick to his stomach, knowing that he drove his brother away. He couldn't believe, out of _everyone_ , it was his own _brother_ to hate him and leave him. They always had a relatively nice relationship before Sanha's powers came into play, and Sanha _longed_ to have it back.

But when Myungjun moved in and treated him as an older brother _should_ , Sanha decided that maybe he didn't have to feel bad for his own powers. If Myungjun could accept him, maybe his powers were _good_. Maybe he was _useful_.

And the thought stayed with him until the bracelet had been snapped on his wrist. Just by existing, he was ruining lives and causing harm – and this thought was especially confirmed when Sanha began treating the wound that stretched out across Minhyuk's chest.

They had finally made it back to the hotel. Sanha stopped on the way to pick up bandages and medicine for Minhyuk, and he had managed to sneak his friend into their room without anyone noticing that Minhyuk's shirt was completely soaked in blood.

Minhyuk was stumbling the whole time, his face held in a grimace as he continued to move stealthily. When he was able to sit finally, he let out a sigh of relief and breathed deeply.

“Does it hurt?” Sanha asked, checking his phone to figure out _how_ , exactly, to treat such a large wound.

Minhyuk shook his head. “Not a bit,” he lied.

(Or maybe that was sarcasm. Sanha could never tell with Minhyuk.)

“I think it hurts,” Sanha responded, nervously staring at Minhyuk's shirt. He had never seen so much blood before, and he could only pray that the witch hadn't cut over any major arteries. “If it bleeds that much, it's got to hurt.”

“It looks worse than it is.”

In response to that, Sanha lightly tapped Minhyuk's chest. Minhyuk instantly hissed out and curled up slightly in pain.

“I knew it.”

Sanha felt incredibly guilty. Had it not been for him, Minhyuk wouldn't have to be dealing with such a large cut. Had it not been for him, Minhyuk would probably be at home with Myungjun and Jinwoo, maybe watching television or playing cards or doing whatever it was they would do on a nice evening.

Had it not been for him, Minhyuk would be _safe_.

“D-Do you want me to apply the bandages?” Sanha asked quietly, holding up the roll of cloth he had gotten from the store. “Might be easier than, um, st-straining your own body to put it on yourself.”

Minhyuk hesitated for a few seconds before nodding his head and slowly removing his shirt. “Can you, uh, can you clean it first?” His voice, too, was quiet and uncertain. “I think cleaning it can remove the chance of it getting infected.”

“Yeah.” Sanha knew that – at least, his web search had informed him of such. He hurried into the bathroom, wetting one of the available washcloths and scrubbing soap all over it until suds formed. He didn't need it _overly_ soapy, he decided. It wasn't as if he was going to try to scrub Minhyuk's chest clean. It was just a preemptive measure to prevent the infection. He could dab it, poke at it a bit, but he knew he shouldn't do anything harshly.

He couldn't stand to see Minhyuk in pain.

And he realized that going back into their main room would involve having to see Minhyuk in pain. He'd have to inflict some of that pain himself, too, by means of cleaning and dressing the wound, and he knew Minhyuk would wince and jerk away from his touch.

Sanha stared down into the sink and struggled to control his breathing. Tears threatened to fall again, but he felt selfish for wanting to cry. _Minhyuk_ was the one in pain. _Minhyuk_ was the one who should be crying, not him.

He wished Myungjun was here. Even Jinwoo could handle this – Dongmin and Bin could handle it even more, as they were detectives who had fought a witch before. But how was _he_ expected to do anything? He was a first-year college student who had hardly been away from home before, and he had _definitely_ never dealt with so bad of a wound.

His hands shook, and he tried to tell himself that all he needed to do was clean it and wrap it up, and then it would probably heal just fine. It wouldn't be a difficult task, and Minhyuk could actually direct him if need be.

But if it was so simple, why was Sanha so scared to go back out there and face the older boy?

He took another deep breath, then slapped his own cheeks. He could do this. He _could_ do this. He wasn't completely useless, was he? Minhyuk, at least, seemed to trust him well enough to dress the wound, which had to stand for something, didn't it?

With that thought in mind, he left the bathroom, eyes averted as he made his way back to the bed.

Minhyuk sat in wait for Sanha. His shirt was crumpled on the floor and his chest was smeared with blood, most of it dry by that point. Fortunately, the cut no longer appeared to be bleeding, but it was still difficult to actually look at. Sanha swallowed nervously as he took a seat on the bed beside Minhyuk, and he held up the washcloth.

“I'm going t-to start cleaning it now, alright, Hyung?”

“Yeah.”

Minhyuk seemed to be holding his breath as Sanha gently dabbed at the wound. He wished they could do this in the bathroom so he could rinse the washcloth as need be, but he wasn't going to tell Minhyuk to get up and move anymore than necessary. Besides, as it was no longer bleeding, it was easier to remove some of the crimson liquid from Minhyuk's body.

He hoped it wasn't uncomfortable for Minhyuk. He hoped it wasn't making Minhyuk in even greater pain. He hoped he was being soft and tender enough with his movements so the wound wouldn't become more aggravated.

“You're quiet,” Minhyuk suddenly commented. Sanha flinched lightly, glancing up at Minhyuk with wide eyes.

“Huh?”

“I mean...usually you're more talkative than I am, but...you're quiet right now.”

Sanha wet his lips with his tongue, then returned his attention on cleaning the gash on Minhyuk's chest. He didn't know what he was supposed to say. He didn't know how he was supposed to respond.

But Minhyuk appeared to be waiting for him to say _something_ , if his anxious expression was anything to go by, and so Sanha murmured, “There's nothing to talk about.”

“We just faced off with a witch and there's nothing to talk about?” Minhyuk repeated with a scoff. “That's bullshit. There's a ton to talk about and discuss right now, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Like how awesome you were out there. Like how quickly you can shift just by me asking you to. Like how we made a really nice escape and also managed to have the police capture-”

“You got hurt because of me!” Sanha snapped, and he lifted his head, breaking his concentration on his current task. “We shouldn't have stayed! Once she went to the bathroom, we should've left, but I thought maybe she would actually help. And _now look!_ ” Sanha bit his lip. Minhyuk's expression was unreadable. “I made you get hurt.”

Minhyuk was quiet for a few seconds and Sanha returned to cleaning the wound. “You didn't _make me_ do anything,” Minhyuk mumbled. “Sanha, don't think for a second that I assumed this journey would be free of trouble and pain. I knew what I was getting into.” He shifted slightly, causing Sanha to draw his hand away in fear of placing too much pressure down on the cut. “Besides, when we first got to her house, _you_ were the one who didn't want to stay there. Remember? You wanted to leave.”

“But-but I ended up making us stay.”

“And I chose to go along with it. I thought...I thought maybe you'd be right, and maybe she would help us somehow.”

Sanha sniffed and rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand. Minhyuk's eyes remained on him all the while, and Sanha knew better than to let himself break down in tears again. “I wish we had never come out here,” he whispered as he finished wiping Minhyuk's chest clean of the blood. “I-I wish I had just learned to live with it myself, or ma-maybe I wish I had moved somewhere else so that no one else would have to be hurt fr-from my own mistakes, and-”

“What mistakes?” Minhyuk cocked his head slightly and stared at Sanha. “You think that the chief putting a bracelet on you was _your_ mistake?”

“I should have left when I had the chance.”

“You didn't know what he was going to do, from what you told me.”

Sanha gnawed at the inside of his cheek. “Maybe I shouldn't have been born, then.”

“You didn't have a choice in _that_ matter. And even if you _did_ have a choice, I wouldn't wish for anything different.” Minhyuk rifled through the plastic bag with the supplies Sanha had gotten from the nearby store, pulling out bandages and ointment.

“But you're hurt! If we hadn't been together, then you-”

“It's _really_ not as bad as you're making it out to be, Sanha. Stop being a baby.”

But Sanha couldn't help it. Looking at the red gash going down Minhyuk's chest made _Sanha_ wince in pain. He couldn't imagine how badly it must be affecting Minhyuk to deal with such a mess.

(He was certain Minhyuk was brushing off the pain in order to make him feel better. There was no way that Minhyuk would be crying over it one moment and then acting nonchalant in the next. It was just to make Sanha feel better – and that knowledge made Sanha's stomach churn with absolute guilt.)

Minhyuk held up the ointment and cleared his throat. “Mind putting this on me?” he questioned. When Sanha didn't respond, he sighed. “I can do it myself, I guess, but it's going to hurt if _I_ do it, because my hands are rough and I'm exhausted so I might reopen the wound and bleed out-”

Sanha snatched the tube from Minhyuk's hands. “I'll do it!” the younger boy loudly announced. He noticed Minhyuk smirk slightly in his direction, which he ignored for the sake of ensuring Minhyuk's wound would _not_ randomly reopen on them. He poured a little bit of the ointment onto his fingers before slowly rubbing it into Minhyuk's skin. “D-Do you want me to put on the bandages after this?”

“Please.”

Sanha nodded. “You...you might have to tell me how to do it. I don't, um, I don't really know – I mean, I've never really put bandages on someone before. Those small ones – I've used band-aids, but nothing like...like this.”

“I'll tell you how to do it. It's not that hard, honestly.”

It sounded like Minhyuk had experience. Sanha narrowed his eyes in concentration, then muttered his question of, “Have you done it before?”

“A few times,” Minhyuk replied. He drew in breath, and Sanha removed his fingers, worried that he had managed to press down too harshly. But after a few seconds, Minhyuk nodded his head for Sanha to continue.

“To yourself?” Sanha asked.

“Hm?”

“Did you put bandages on yourself before?”

There was silence, and when Sanha glanced up in confusion, he realized that Minhyuk's eyebrows were furrowed and there was a frown on his lips.

Okay, then. That was definitely something he shouldn't push. He backtracked hurriedly. “Don't answer that. It's fine. Just tell me how to do it now, because I don't want to accidentally wrap it too tight and then you suffocate to death, and I don't want to accidentally wrap it too _much_ and then you look like a mummy, and I don't-”

“I'll let you know how to do it, Sanha.” At least Minhyuk _sounded_ a little amused, and he didn't look as upset as he had before. “Just finish with this ointment.”

And Sanha did, with very little problems this time. He was gentle enough that Minhyuk didn't seem to be in any more pain, and when he began to work on the bandages, urged onward by Minhyuk's calm instructions, his panic was subsiding.

Minhyuk was going to be fine.

It wasn't bleeding anymore, and the medicine would surely ward off infections, and as long as Sanha took care of the wound and redressed it every evening (as the article on his phone told him to do), then Minhyuk would remain healthy.

The only issue would be, then, any nasty scarring that came with a cut of that size.

“This...this won't be etched into your skin forever, will it?” he asked quietly as he finished wrapping the bandage. He used adhesive to ensure it wouldn't come loose, securing it right near Minhyuk's shoulder where he had started the wrapping process. A quick scan of his handiwork assured him that it was probably as good as it could get, and he finally sat back, staring fearfully up at Minhyuk's face.

Despite how dirty he was, and how puffy his eyes were from the tears he had shed earlier on, Sanha thought that Minhyuk was breathtaking. He was strong and tough, but there was something softer about him, something tender, and Sanha was drawn closer to the elder boy with every passing second.

“If it is,” Minhyuk responded, reaching down into his suitcase for a clean shirt, “then it's a cool reminder of how badass we both were while facing off with a witch!”

They hadn't _really_ faced off with a witch. They had just been caught, and Minhyuk was sneaky enough to set them both free.

Besides that, Minhyuk's words solidified Sanha's fear that the scarring would definitely keep that gash in his chest forever.

“I don't want you to have that, though. Maybe Jinwoo can do a spell to get rid of it-”

“If you're suggesting I let Jinwoo do _anything_ with my _body_ , I'm going to have to stop you right there.” Minhyuk threw on a t-shirt and snorted. “Myungjun doesn't even trust him with plants, so how am _I_ supposed to trust him with taking a scar off of me?”

“But maybe he can do something-”

“I don't mind the scar. It makes me seem really cool, anyway.” He plopped down in their bed and stared up at the ceiling, thus averting his eyes completely from Sanha's worried gaze. “It's late, Sanha. Can we just sleep and not worry about cuts and scars for a bit?”

“But-”

“God, you're a worrywart.” Minhyuk grabbed Sanha's arm and tugged him down into the bed, as well. Sanha hit the pillow with an unceremonious _oof_. “Just go to sleep, Sanha.”

It was difficult when he had to share the same bed as Minhyuk, though, and when he was incredibly worried about accidentally brushing up against Minhyuk's wound in the middle of the night. So he cleared his throat and whispered, “Maybe I should sleep on the floor. I can cause less damage-”

“Then I'll sleep on the floor, too. It's unfair for one of us to get the bed and the other to be stuck on the floor.”

“Hyung-”

“ _Sanha_.” Through the dim lighting, Sanha could make out Minhyuk's slight pout. “Just _sleep_.”

“But it's-”

“Sanha, I just got attacked by a witch. I bled enough to completely turn my shirt red. I was _scared_ , Sanha, and if you think that I'll feel better without someone beside me, you're an idiot.”

He hadn't expected Minhyuk to blurt out such a confession. Sanha's fingers curled into the bedsheets as Minhyuk turned so all Sanha could see of him was his back.

(Sanha wondered why his heart was hammering so hard in his chest.)

“M-Minhyuk-”

“You're an idiot regardless, but you'll be the world's most _stupid_ idiot if you leave.”

Sanha definitely didn't want to be the world's most stupid idiot; not in front of Minhyuk, at least. So he nodded his head slowly, then murmured, “I'll stay here, then, so I'm only an idiot, and not the most stupid idiot.”

And he would also stay so he could make sure Minhyuk wouldn't vanish during the night; around three in the morning, if he just _happened_ to gently grasp onto the back of Minhyuk's shirt and not let go until he woke up, it was just so Minhyuk wouldn't disappear into thin air.

It wasn't attachment or anything. Because that would definitely make him a stupid idiot for falling in love with someone so vastly different from himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need more clothes for work SO SEND ME DOLLA BILLS [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com). i love you guys!!!
> 
> (next chapter probably won't have the next witch just yet - my notes are just all over the place now, i strayed far from the original plans)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk didn't seem to have an answer for him. Minhyuk just embraced him all the more and Sanha closed his eyes again, soaking in the love and affection he knew he didn't even come close to being worthy of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sanha tries (and fails) to buy ice cream. send me a holla for that _rocky_ road ahahaha im funny.

Minhyuk's wound looked worse with the morning light. Sanha didn't even want to _touch_ it, but Minhyuk was already unwrapping it.

“Mi-Minhyuk-hyung, maybe we should leave the bandages on-”

“The article you found online _said_ that we need to change it everyday, and I know a little bit of it bled through the bandage last night.” To prove that, the older boy pointed at a spot on his shirt, stained red with the blood from his cut, and Sanha winced.

“Still...”

Minhyuk didn't even respond to Sanha's worries and concerns, and Sanha knew that was for the best. After all, if they allowed the dirty bandage to stay wrapped up against Minhyuk's body, the wound would become infected. Sanha _really_ wouldn't be able to deal with _that_ , and so he told himself he was just going to have to suck it up and hope that it didn't gross him out too much.

But that didn't stop him from making gagging sounds as he added more ointment onto Minhyuk's chest.

“Oh my god,” Minhyuk mumbled after Sanha's seventh gag. “You're such a baby.” In response, Sanha puffed his cheeks out, screwed up his nose, and sent Minhyuk a glare. Minhyuk snorted as Sanha got back to work. “You're making me regret this whole journey idea, Sanha. You're too ugly for me to travel with.”

Sanha might have patted Minhyuk's wound a _little_ harder than he needed to, and Minhyuk gave a yelp. When their gazes met again, Sanha simply smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Sucks to be you, Hyung.”

He certainly didn't miss Minhyuk's nasty stare as he began to wrap the affected area with fresh bandages. He hummed a tune as he did so, blocking out some of the noise of the loud AC unit stuck in the window and the movement of people just outside of their door, people who were getting ready to explore the city as tourists, or perhaps leave for a new, more exciting place to visit.

Sanha wished he had the luxury to do such a thing. He wished this was nothing more than a vacation, and he and Minhyuk were traversing the whole country of Korea in order to find the next interesting location. He wished his phone camera could be filled with pictures of landmarks and fun experiences, and he wished his suitcase was full of souvenirs and the usual touristy sort of clothes.

“We should pick up gifts,” he suddenly murmured as he finished applying the adhesive to make sure Minhyuk's bandages didn't come undone.

Minhyuk looked confused, and rightly so. “Huh?”

“Gifts,” Sanha repeated. “Stuff for the others. What sort of things do Myungjun and Jinwoo like? Maybe Dongmin and Bin, too, they've been helpful.”

“I'm not spending money – _Myungjun's_ money, at that – to pick up stupid trinkets for them,” Minhyuk responded with a huff.

“Even better that it's Myungjun's money, so if it _is_ something stupid, at least we're not spending our _own_ money.” Sanha wiggled his eyebrows. “Besides, maybe Myungjun will like the fact that we're not all doom and gloom, and we can trick him into thinking we had _loads_ of fun. He might chill out a little bit.”

Minhyuk pulled his shirt back on, but he didn't look entirely convinced. “Honestly, other than flowers, I wouldn't know what to pick out. I'm an expert in flower types and what sort Myungjun and Jinwoo like, and what would _probably_ look good in Dongmin and Bin's apartment, but otherwise, I don't _know_ what to buy for people.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “Last Christmas, I bought Myungjun a frying pan. He doesn't cook.”

Sanha watched as Minhyuk readied himself, preparing to go on the next long trip to Cheongju.

(Cheongju looked more exciting than Jecheon, if the pictures Minhyuk pulled up on his phone were anything to go by. “They have a cool nightclub I want to visit, too!” Minhyuk had teased, and Sanha had to endure Minhyuk discussing in full detail how nightclubs worked, as if he thought Sanha wasn't aware of what adult nightlife was like – and, frustratingly enough, Sanha _wasn't_ aware of what adult nightlife was like.)

“Maybe you should take lessons on how to give better gifts,” Sanha announced as he piled his clothes into his own travel bag. There wasn't much, honestly, to pack away, considering they hadn't really been _in_ their hotel room for that long. “And I think I'm very good at giving gifts. When I was a kid, I would give my mom and dad coupon books.”

“Coupon books? That's an awful gift.”

Sanha rolled his eyes at Minhyuk's brashness. “It was good stuff! Like, one free hug and one free breakfast-”

“So stuff you probably do regardless of whether or not they have coupons, right?”

When Sanha glanced over at him, Minhyuk wore a soft smile. His eyes, too, held nothing but a gentle understanding – though the moment he realized Sanha noticed his expression, he quickly cleared his throat and hoisted his bag up over his shoulder.

He was right – Minhyuk always seemed to be right. Sanha really didn't need coupons in order to ensure that he would hug his parents or fix them breakfast in bed. After the coupons were used up and boxed away in his mother's closet, after he had exhausted his supply of _new_ free things to try, he had continued onward with his quest to please his parents in any way possible. And, no matter what he did, they _were_ always pleased. Even that one time when he dropped his father's glasses on accident, cracking one of the lenses, his father didn't scold him. His father simply pushed them up his nose, took one look at Sanha's wobbly lip, then ruffled his son's hair, exclaiming, “I think all of the cool policemen these days have cracked glasses! Doesn't it look like I got in a bit of a scuffle with some sort of dangerous criminal? And _of course_ your cool father came out on top, didn't he?”

Sanha felt better after that, and his father was able to repair his glasses after a few days.

The memory caused Sanha's lips to tighten, and he sat in silence until he realized Minhyuk was shoving his shoulder and repeating his name, the words falling from his lips over and over again. “Sanha. Sanha. Sanha. Sanha. Sanha. San-”

“ _What?_ ” Sanha snapped, popping up from his seat.

Minhyuk raised his eyebrows. “Are you ready to go? You've just been staring at the wall and you looked like you might...might have started to, um, to cry, and-”

“I'm fine, Hyung.” Sanha would _not_ cry over leaving his parents. He was tough and strong, and even if none of the witches would help him out, he was an _adult_ , first and foremost. He could make a living on his own without any assistance from his parents.

He wondered how they were, though. He hoped they weren't bugging Myungjun or Jinwoo about anything. He hoped, too, that Myungjun and Jinwoo would stay strong and refuse to give away his location.

Sanha took one deep exhale, ignoring the confusion evident on Minhyuk's expression, and then slapped his own cheeks. “I'm fine _now!_ ” he repeated, and he gave Minhyuk a large grin. “I'm ready to go make this next witch agree that I'm totally worth breaking the law for!”

“Of course you are,” Minhyuk conceded without any sort of hesitation. Sanha felt his heart go soft and gooey over that. Despite the fact that he considered himself far closer to Minhyuk after their shared experience together, fighting off a witch and whatnot, he still felt a distance between them. There was something blocking either of them from _truly_ enjoying the other's full company. Sanha wasn't quite sure what it was; all he knew was that he wanted to hug Minhyuk and maybe press his nose against Minhyuk's cheek to see how warm he was, or maybe hold Minhyuk's hand-

Little, stupid things like that.

And those desires just intensified when Minhyuk said such lovely, comforting words with no prompting to do so.

Sanha slapped his cheeks once more for good measure. He was definitely _not_ here to wallow about in his emotions. He was just traveling with Minhyuk in order to confront witches. Once they were done, whether or not they had succeeded, Sanha was certain that things would go back to how they were before, with the two of them barely conversing unless Myungjun was there in order to offer his mutual friendship.

(But even though that would probably be what happened, Sanha _hoped_ for otherwise. He _hoped_ that Minhyuk would maybe talk to him more or hang out with him more or _hug him_ more. He hoped so.)

They set out again with their bags in hand. Minhyuk stopped to give the front desk lady their key, and after a quick, “Yes, everything was satisfactory,” they left the building.

Sanha wondered what Jecheon was _really_ like, crazy witches aside. He wondered how much cultural and historical significance, if any, the city had in Korea. He wondered if there were any cool sights. He wondered if there were any cool restaurants.

But Minhyuk was walking fast and Sanha barely had any time to glance over at the buildings they passed as he attempted to find _something_ cool for them to do. Maybe they could stop somewhere and take a short break. Maybe he could convince Minhyuk to do something with him that only tourists would do. That's what they were, right? They were basically tourists, traveling around and viewing new places.

Just a different sort of tourism that involved magic and breaking the law, really, but it could _still_ count for something, most likely.

And then he spotted it.

It was a small shop, nothing really important or fancy or touristy. Not what Sanha _would_ have wanted should he actually go out on a vacation. But it looked _comforting_ , and that was really all that Sanha could ask for. “Hey, Minhyuk?”

Minhyuk stopped and glanced back at Sanha, who had started to trail behind. “What? We need to catch the next bus to Cheongju. It leaves in less than twenty minutes, and we still have some ways to go.”

“When does the next bus come after that?” Sanha asked, not yet tearing his eyes away from the shop he had discovered.

“About two hours – what are you looking at?” Minhyuk followed his gaze, and after a few seconds to look for what it was Sanha had noticed, he scoffed. “ _Ice cream of all flavors?_ What are you, Sanha, a baby?”

“We've already established that I am,” Sanha replied. “And, besides, ice cream is for _everyone_. I don't even know if babies can eat ice cream – toddlers, maybe, so at most, I'm a _toddler_.” Sanha took one big step forward – his long legs managed to put him right beside Minhyuk, which put him in _perfect_ pouting position.

(If Minhyuk viewed him as a baby, he might as well play up the baby part.)

“ _Please_ , Minhyuk-hyung? I'm hungry for a sweet, since all we got was some quick ramen from the store, and it's _Myungjun's_ money, anyway, and don't you think he'd want this for us?”

“I don't think he would, no. I think he'd be pissed we didn't share any with him.”

“ _Jinwoo_ would want this, then.”

Jinwoo definitely would – and Minhyuk knew it, if his sudden change in expression was anything to go by.

“I...I need to call Jinwoo first, though. Just to keep him up-to-date, and...and to remind him not to freak out when I come home with a giant scar and also less money in my pocket because I spent it all on ice cream.”

“You can call him and I can go get us something to eat!” Sanha hopped up once in excitement, then held out his hand. “Here, give me Myungjun's card! I'll make sure to get us something delicious! What do you like?”

Minhyuk hesitated for only a brief moment before seeming to give in. He tore the card out of his wallet hurriedly and said, “Rocky road. Bring it back _quick_ , all the talk about ice cream made me really want some of it.”

And who was Sanha to deny Minhyuk _anything_ he really wanted? He gave a bright grin and a quick bow and said, “I'll be faster than the Flash!”

Minhyuk didn't seem to understand the reference, and Sanha shuffled away in embarrassment. (Apparently, he was going to have to introduce superhero comics to his friend now. He had one or two stored away in his bag as light reading material; hopefully they would have some time for Sanha to discuss it.)

The line was a little long, which Sanha should have expected. It _was_ a hot day, after all, for what was supposed to be nice spring weather, and the humidity probably had driven everyone inside for something cool and sweet. Therefore, it really didn't come as much of a surprise when he noticed several children milling about. The youngest of the group hardly seemed to be of an age where she was allowed to leave her mother's sight, and yet there she was, waddling away from the rest of the little gang of children and heading straight for him.

_Why me?_ Sanha thought dreadfully. He first tried to avoid eye contact, but then the young girl tugged at his pants and muttered something along the lines of, “Dadda?”

Did children imprint on strangers? Sanha had no idea. He assumed they did, if she thought he was her _father_ (did he _look_ that old? - he decided he would take better care of his skin from now on, and he wondered if Minhyuk had any sheet masks for him). If children were also like ducks, then, they would appreciate affection.

Because ducks _definitely_ appreciated affection, even if they didn't know it.

“Are you lost?” he cooed at her, then bent to her level. The line wasn't moving much, anyway, and she looked more at ease and smiley with the closer proximity. “Do you need help finding the other kids? They're right behind you.”

She was playing with his sleeve, uninterested in what he had to say.

“Hey, do-don't do that,” he gently scolded, trying to pull his hand back.

He didn't know children had such strong grips. (He wondered if ducks had such strong grips.)

“Dadda!” she announced to a few strangers nearby. They smiled politely down at her; a group of women _aww_ ed at her attachment to Sanha.

This wasn't good, and Sanha tried to pry her hand away from his sleeve. It was dangerously close to his wristband. “I'm not your dad,” he whispered, as if she actually understood. “I'm just trying to get ice cream for me and my Hyung, and if you keep pulling at me, you'll reveal my superhero status to the whole world and then I'll have a super villain chasing me, probably. Just take your hand off.”

Obviously, she didn't heed his warnings, and her other hand came up instead, grubby fingers grasping a hold of Minhyuk's wristband. Before Sanha could react, she _tugged_ , and the wristband slid down his arm, revealing the bright red mark for all to see.

Sanha didn't assume it would be such a bad thing, though. After all, he hadn't known what it meant originally, but then he heard a gasp behind him and a hushed voice saying, “ _Magic_ user?”

Of _course_. He forgot the bracelet displayed his status quite brilliantly, allowing everyone to know of his odd predicament in life.

In a panic, he pulled the child's hands away once more, but he did so much more harshly than he meant to. The girl fell backwards onto her bottom, and Sanha froze for a moment as she looked up at him with watery eyes. “Don't-” Sanha started, but then she burst into tears.

He tried to comfort her, he _did_. As it turned out, though, the more he spoke, the more she cried, struggling to get away from him. A few people were murmuring, and Sanha tried to ignore them for the sake of making things better with the child.

Even if his bracelet was still visible, hopefully he could manage to play it off as some sort of prank, maybe, some sort of misunderstanding.

He heard rushed footsteps, and he glanced up in time to see a middle-aged woman. She called out her daughter's name: “Dawon!”

Sanha cleared his throat and straightened up. “I'm sorry if I made her fall, I didn't expect her to-”

There was a flash of fear and anger on the woman's face suddenly, and Sanha felt taken back from such a look of terror. “I'm sorry-” he started.

And then he was slapped.

It was rough and hard and right across his cheek, making his head spin for a few seconds before he was able to focus in on the words the lady was screeching at him.

“You stay _away_ from my child, you filthy magic user!” She was dragging the still-crying girl away now. Her hands shook. “You don't deserve to _touch_ my child, o-or _any_ child! What the _hell_ is wrong with you?”

Things were quiet, save for her yelling and the child's wailing. Sanha brought his fingers up to tentatively touch his stinging cheek.

He was slapped.

He had never been hurt in such a manner before. People usually seemed to like him, and even if he wasn't good with children, he had never meant any harm with what he had done. But he knew it wasn't even about the child – it was about the stark red mark that stood out against his pale skin, the ugly words etched out. _Magic User_. And that's what he was, wasn't he?

And that's all he would ever be to anyone else.

He stumbled backwards, the apology he wanted to give caught in his throat. He wasn't sure what he was trying to apologize for; maybe for touching the child in the first place, maybe for causing the lady great fear, maybe for being born as a magic user-

Maybe for being born.

He felt tears spring to his eyes and he backed away from the scene he had created. Those in line behind him scrambled to get away from _him_ , just as he tried to escape his own issues.

Everyone now looked scared. It wasn't just the lady anymore; the old couple in the back were gripping onto each other, and the man whispered something comforting to his wife before shooting Sanha a threatening look as he tried to shield his wife's body with his own.

_I won't hurt you_ , Sanha wanted to assure him. _I'm not dangerous_. But he was certain that it would go over just as well as his words had with the chief.

No one care what he truly _was_ ; they only cared what his label had shown.

With the knowledge that he definitely wasn't going to get ice cream today, he turned and ran. He jogged out of the shop, pulling his wristband down so others wouldn't be able to see the monster he apparently had become, and he tried to stop those tears from falling down his face.

He didn't deserve to cry. After all, he _was_ a magic user. It was a fact of life that people would hate him. It was something he ought to get used to.

And, yet, as he approached Minhyuk, the tears became harder and harder to chase off.

“Where's the ice cream?” Minhyuk asked once Sanha was close enough to him. Sanha stopped in his tracks and squeezed his eyes shut. “Sanha?” Minhyuk's voice was filled with concern. “Sanha, what's...? Sanha, why's your cheek red? Sanha-”

The first choked sob escaped from his mouth before he could stop it. His eyes still tightly closed, he brought his fist up and pressed it into his lips in order to quell any other stray sobs that might appear. He was well aware, too, of his hand shaking, and he was well aware that he was probably causing even more trouble, but his crying was difficult to actually stop.

He felt a tear roll down his cheek, then he felt another one follow in its stead. Minhyuk must have noticed, too, and Minhyuk stepped forward to lightly grasp Sanha's elbow.

“Sanha?” His voice was softer, but it wasn't yet free from his obvious worry.

(And Sanha wanted to tell Minhyuk not to worry because he didn't _deserve_ Minhyuk's worry. Honestly, all he deserved was to live in seclusion where he would never hurt anyone else ever again.)

But the one touch caused Sanha to break down even more, and before he could stop himself, he leaned up against the older boy and buried his face in his shoulder.

“Th-They hate me!” he gasped out, and he felt Minhyuk's arms move to wrap around him. Minhyuk didn't ask any questions or demand any answers. Minhyuk was just there to comfort.

(Sanha didn't deserve it, he knew he didn't.)

“ _I_ hate me!” he sobbed. “I _hate_ myself!”

“Sanha-”

“But I-I-I'm not dangerous!” His voice was a whisper now, his words broken by small bouts of sniffles and gulps as he still worked hard to quiet his own sobs. “Mi-Minhyuk, I _swear_ , I'm not dangerous and I won't hurt anyone!”

He could feel Minhyuk swallow thickly as he rubbed Sanha's back. “I know,” Minhyuk muttered. “But, Sanha, why all of a sudden – what _happened?_ ”

Sanha couldn't answer that. At least, he couldn't answer that now without going right back to his wailing. Instead, he took a long, deep breath and let it out, his heart hammering harshly in his chest as he reminded himself that he didn't _deserve_ this comforting.

“Minhyuk? I-If I'm not dangerous and I won't hurt them, why do they _hate me?_ An-And why do _I_ hate me? Minhyuk, why do they ma-make me hate myself?”

Minhyuk didn't seem to have an answer for him. Minhyuk just gave a gentle _shh_ in his ear and Sanha closed his eyes again, soaking in the love and affection he knew he didn't even come _close_ to being worthy of.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last update for you lovelies for, like...idk, a few days? i'll be away from home again for a while, which means away from my gorgeous PC, starting on saturday. dont miss me, bc i'll be watching tv all fourth of july weekend after i finish my busy workday on fourth of july (kill me lol), but you can still keep updated with me and my goodness on my tumblr, [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com). i accept loads of dollar bills.
> 
> next chapter? they find the witch. it's someone they may or may not know. or at least one of them may or may not know. or at least-


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He liked their friendship, but when Minhyuk's soft and gentle eyes sought him out in such a manner, Sanha wondered why they couldn't be more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS HASNT BEEN UPDATED IN OVER A MONTH
> 
> i suck, im sorry.

They caught the bus two hours later.

Minhyuk had ended up finding a different ice cream shop for the two of them, one a little farther away, one where no peering eyes were gazing down at his wrists. He kept his sleeves covered over the mark, and Minhyuk had helped him position the wristband properly once more.

“I feel like a-a big baby,” Sanha had hiccuped out as Minhyuk wiped down his face for him in the bathroom of the new ice cream parlor. “I shouldn't c-cry so much.”

Minhyuk gave him a slight _tsk_. His hands were gentle as he rubbed the damp paper towel over Sanha's cheeks, disposing of all evidence relating to any sort of tears. “Anyone would cry at that,” he murmured. He paused in his cleaning, blinking at a spot on Sanha's face.

Sanha knew what he was looking at.

“It doesn't hu-hurt.”

“It looks red, Sanha.”

“It doesn't hurt, though.”

Minhyuk bit down on his lip, his eyebrows furrowed as he returned to the task at hand. “I wish I had gone with you. I wish I was there when she tried to start something. I would have-”

“It's better that you weren't.”

“Because I would have beaten her up?” Minhyuk shook his head. “She needs someone to beat her up.”

Which was exactly why Sanha was happy that Minhyuk hadn't come along. While it had been a little upsetting, and while part of him wanted to agree with Minhyuk that the lady _did_ need to get beaten up, he wouldn't have actually wanted that.

Besides, then people would know that Minhyuk was protecting a magic user. He would have a bad stigma attached to him if people were to catch on. The last thing Sanha wanted was to see Minhyuk turn out like him, like an outcast. Minhyuk was nice and friendly and fun, and he didn't deserve to live a lifestyle where he would have to hide away.

“Can we not talk about what happened?” Sanha asked nervously, and Minhyuk met his eyes. “Please? Can we just stop and catch the bus and forget about it all?”

And while Minhyuk seemed to quietly agree, Sanha knew it was far from forgotten. They rode the bus in relative silence. Sanha was given the window seat, and he stared out forlornly at the sights they passed, at the people who walked around with little to no concern in their lives. He could have been them, had he been normal.

Minhyuk could have been them, had he not felt the need to accompany Sanha on his journey.

And why _should_ he be here? While Sanha considered them to be friends before the chaos started, he didn't know if the friendship warranted risking lives for each other. It was a more casual relationship, one where they would hang out if the time was right and if they were both free. It was an awkward one, too, with very little talking and too much fumbling over nerves.

So _why?_

Sanha's brain couldn't come up with an answer. He struggled to think of something, but the only reasoning was perhaps Minhyuk would rather Myungjun and Jinwoo stay out of anymore trouble. Perhaps he was just trying to spare them.

In which case, he shouldn't care at all whether or not Sanha had gotten slapped.

Sanha leaned his forehead up against the bus window, the glass cold against his skin. He only glanced over at Minhyuk when enough time had passed that he was sure Minhyuk wouldn't notice him staring.

He was sleeping, rather uncomfortably, it looked like, his back straight against the seat and his chest jutted out ever so slightly, which Sanha assumed was to keep the wound from brushing up against anything else.

He was so cute.

Perhaps if none of this had happened, Sanha would have one day gained the confidence to confess his feelings. Perhaps he would feel determined enough to make it clear that he _liked_ Minhyuk, as more than a friend, as more than a neighbor. And, perhaps, Minhyuk would have liked him back.

Not now, though. Not when he had a large marking on his wrist displaying his status for the world to see. Besides, now that Minhyuk knew he was a magic user, there was no way he would try to get involved, was there? At least, not on a romantic level.

Sanha touched his own cheek lightly, remembering the concern in Minhyuk's gaze as he had looked it over.

Why did Minhyuk care so much when he should have just left it alone?

Regardless, even though Sanha told himself not to feel pleased with the level of worry Minhyuk held for him, his heart still felt like it fluttered in his chest.

He hated feeling so happy that he was pulling Minhyuk down with him.

But his mother always said that optimism was his strong point. He was able to find the best in situations, even when it seemed like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. In that case, he needed to put it all out of his mind and instead focus solely on finding the witches. They still had two more to go; surely _one_ of those might be the one to remove the spell off of Sanha, right?

Right.

They definitely would. He would beg and grovel if need be. He would do whatever it took as long as he could live a somewhat normal life afterwards.

That thought in his mind made him feel slightly better. Better enough to even shove Minhyuk awake when the bus rolled up to their stop some hours later.

“We're here,” he explained when Minhyuk blinked over at him in confusion. Sanha worked on grabbing their travel bags as Minhyuk stretched in an attempt to fully shake off the sleep. “Cheongju, right?”

“Mm.” Minhyuk rubbed at weary eyes, and Sanha just decided to take that answer as a yes.

Sanha was, fortunately, alert enough to lead Minhyuk down the steps. The boy stumbled once or twice as they walked, searching desperately for a place to stay, but the afternoon breeze and the new sights and sounds seemed to do just fine in waking him up.

They stopped to grab something to eat, some cheap noodle place nearby that didn't look too crowded. For a while, all Sanha could hear was the sounds of _other_ visitors chatting with each other and their own gentle slurping, chopsticks hitting the sides of metal bowls as they ate.

Minhyuk was tired. Sanha understood and respected his silence, but _Sanha_ needed to talk. _Sanha_ needed to discuss things. He would feel better himself if he did.

“This time, I think the witch will help us.”

He made sure to keep his voice down, not wanting others to hear him discussing _witches_ so casually.

Minhyuk glanced up from his bowl of noodles, and nodded his head. “They will,” he agreed readily.

Sanha's heart leaped in his chest from the stare Minhyuk gave him. He liked their friendship, but when Minhyuk's soft and gentle eyes sought him out in such a manner, Sanha wondered why they couldn't be _more_.

He chalked it up to the fact that even if Minhyuk, by some random chance, _did_ like him, they couldn't be together. Not with Sanha's powers, in any case. It only worked for Myungjun and Jinwoo because they both had magical powers, and they both understood what it was like to be ostracized from society. And maybe Dongmin and Bin were a little different of a couple, but Dongmin's powers weren't necessarily bad, and as head detective of the police department, he could hide his tracks a little easier than Sanha was able to.

He wouldn't pursue a relationship with Minhyuk. He longed to blurt out his feelings and explain his attachment, but he couldn't do it. The words caught on his tongue, his brain pushing them back and reminding him that he wasn't here to make Minhyuk's life miserable.

“This is good,” Sanha mumbled, changing the conversation topic as quickly as possible. “Really good.”

Minhyuk was still staring, and so Sanha averted his gaze. “Once we find a room, let's go over to the house on the address-”

“Have you ever been in a relationship, Sanha?”

Minhyuk's words were so sudden, so unexpected, that Sanha had to pause and take a moment to process them.

Why would Minhyuk even ask that?

Sanha cleared his throat. He gripped his chopsticks in sweaty hands, contemplating his answer. “N-No, but-”

“Okay.”

And, just like that, Minhyuk was finished with the question. He didn't ask anything else concerning a past relationship, and he didn't offer any explanation as to why he had needed to know so badly. Sanha's mind felt confused, as it rushed to try to find some sort of _reasoning_ behind Minhyuk's words. Did it have something to do with their current journey? Did it have something to do with his magic status? Maybe Minhyuk was just trying to make sure that no one else knew that he was a shifter. Maybe Minhyuk was just trying to make sure that Sanha didn't have anyone he would miss or desire while away for such a long time.

But it didn't make _sense_.

“Minhyuk-”

“These noodles _are_ really good.” Minhyuk slurped up the remaining food in his bowl before pushing it aside. “And you're right; once we find a room, we'll go over to the address and demand that the bracelet be taken off of you.”

Sanha was still unsure about the question Minhyuk had just asked, and why he felt the need to ignore Sanha's confusion on the subject, but the younger boy said nothing. He needn't complicate things for either of them. Minhyuk had his own reasons for asking, and while those reasons might not make any sense to Sanha, it must have made sense to Minhyuk.

He hurried through the rest of his food to finish along with Minhyuk. They paid the bill (using Myungjun's card, as per the norm) and set about traveling again.

“Nothing fancy,” Minhyuk had mumbled, eyes darting around, alert for when they came across some sort of hotel. “Cheap is fine. We'll only be there for the night, anyway, so we don't really need anywhere super expensive.”

“If Myungjun-hyung is paying, wouldn't you _want_ somewhere super expensive?”

“Unlike you, Sanha, I'm not evil.”

Sanha scoffed at the accusation; he certainly didn't miss the wide, cat-like grin that came across Minhyuk's face. “ _Evil?_ ” he repeated.

“Pure evil,” Minhyuk confirmed, nodding his head. “Nothing but pure evil. Wanting to use Myungjun's card, when the poor boy can barely fend for himself?”

“He has Jinwoo! Besides, _you're_ the one who got the _triple_ ice cream scoop. I only got a single scoop, because I took Hyung into consideration.” Sanha crossed his arms over his chest; a difficult feat to accomplish when he held onto large and heavy bags. “So what does that make you?”

Minhyuk hummed lightly. “Pure evil,” he admitted.

Darn right he was. Sanha gave one last scoff, and he would have been about to agree with the statement, but Minhyuk pointed on over to a building. Sanha's gaze followed along.

That was definitely a cheap hotel.

But, like Minhyuk said, it wouldn't matter. They would hardly spend any time inside, and Sanha could deal with one night of a cheap hotel. “Good eyesight, Hyung,” he complimented, and he reached over to open the door for Minhyuk.

The older boy hesitated for a second or two, and before he entered the premises, Sanha heard him mumble, “I think two evil people would make the best couple.”

Sanha gaped at him. To Minhyuk's credit, he neither turned red nor faltered in his step. It was almost as if he hadn't said anything at all. It was almost as if Sanha had _heard_ the quiet whisper, the soft murmur, come from nothing but thin air.

Was it really Minhyuk, then?

Or, maybe, Sanha was projecting onto Minhyuk what he would like to hear spoken.

He couldn't discredit that particular notion, and it made so much more sense than Minhyuk _actually_ saying it would make.

In any case, he figured he shouldn't dwell on anything. His mission was to get the bracelet off of him; afterwards, perhaps, he could focus on what Minhyuk was muttering under his breath.

“This room is small,” he commented, dumping his suitcase down on one of the beds.

“It has two beds this time, though.” Maybe Minhyuk really hadn't said anything at all. He certainly didn't act as if he had. Sanha would try to push it all out of his mind, chalk it up to his brain playing tricks on him. “And, once again, we really won't be in here for long.” Minhyuk gave the room one last look over, then gestured for Sanha. “Here, let's go find the next witch, okay? I really feel like _this_ one will remove the bracelet off of you.”

Sanha hoped Minhyuk was correct. Sanha hoped this witch would take pity on him and free Sanha from this bondage. If not, Sanha's optimism tried to remind him that they would have one more witch to talk with, but the situation was really growing dire.

If _all_ of the witches said no, Sanha wouldn't know where he would go in order to get away from his own issues and troubles.

Neither he nor Minhyuk spoke much as they followed the directions on Minhyuk's phone, a soft blue line mapping their way to the next house. Minhyuk seemed intent on not making wrong turns, and Sanha just trailed after him, his mind elsewhere in thought.

“It's quiet,” Minhyuk had blurted out.

“Yeah.”

“Stop thinking so much, Sanha.”

How did he know? How did he _always_ know? Sanha wondered about Minhyuk sometimes, about how intuitive he really was.

“It's hard to stop thinking,” Sanha complained. “All the thoughts just keep whizzing past. I can't keep track of any _one_ of them, either; it's like I need to think about all of them at once. All at one time.”

“What's the strongest one right now?”

Sanha bit down on his lip, gnawing at it for a second or two before mumbling, “Whether or not this witch will actually-”

“I told you, they _will_.”

“What if they _don't?_ ”

Minhyuk didn't answer that, and Sanha gave a loud sigh. According to Minhyuk, there was only a _they will_. There was no room for failure in Minhyuk's mind, or so the older boy like to display, anyway. But Sanha was able to catch the signs of Minhyuk faltering, of Minhyuk hesitating. Minhyuk was just as unsure with the entire situation as Sanha was. Minhyuk had no clue whether or not the witch would cooperate.

It was a show. It was an act.

And Sanha was grateful for it.

“Hyung!” he jogged up to Minhyuk's side. Minhyuk blinked over at him in slight surprise. “Hyung, once we're done here, even if I still have the bracelet on, can we eat a _good_ dinner? Not just noodles from a quick store, but, like...maybe beef or steak from a nice restaurant?”

“How mad would Myungjun be, though, if we ate steak without him?”

“Probably very mad.”

Minhyuk's lips curled upwards, and without asking, he hooked his arm around Sanha's pulling him along. “Let's do that, then! We'll go eat a buffet!”

Sanha gave a shrill giggle, grasping onto Minhyuk and hopping up as he walked. “Beef and chicken and endless drinks!”

“ _Drinks?_ It's going to be water or soft drinks for you, Sanha.” Minhyuk swiped at the boy with his other hand, and Sanha artfully dodged it. “Myungjun would _kill me_ if I let you drink any alcohol on my watch.”

“Myungjun-hyung will probably kill you if we eat buffet-”

“Aside from being killed by Myungjun, I'd have to sit through a long lecture by Jinwoo, and, besides, no restaurant will serve alcohol to someone _like you_.”

Sanha pouted, and Minhyuk poked his cheek.

“You have a baby face.”

“Not true.” He ignored Minhyuk's snort. “Come _on!_ I've been going through _so much_ , and I deserve to have something-”

“Wow, now you're trying to sound like some worn-out businessman.” Minhyuk tugged at Sanha's arm. “How about we just both drink soda? Once we're all done and you have the bracelet off, I'll sneak some bottles of soju into our hotel room and we can both just celebrate, alright?”

Sanha had never had drinks before. He had never consumed alcohol with a friend, only ever under the watchful eye of his father, who had allowed him a sip before snatching it away and laughing at Sanha's gagging. Truth be told, he didn't think he liked the taste very much.

But if Minhyuk would do it with him, then Sanha could handle the bitterness. He was sure the overwhelming emotions of happiness and relief would push aside his tastebuds, anyway.

(Or, however the science behind excitement worked – he knew he wouldn't care what he drank at that point.)

For now, however, he had to deal with the immense amount of dread that began to fill his stomach as the apartment complex came into view. He had to deal with the way he grabbed onto Minhyuk frighteningly as they attempted to find the correct room number, sneaking down hallways and bowing politely to other residents that they passed.

“I guess we have to keep it quiet,” Minhyuk murmured. “I didn't realize so many others would live here. Let's see – three hundred and fifty-one, three hundred and fifty-three, three – hey, this is it. Apartment number three hundred and fifty-five.”

It looked just like all of the other apartments in the area that they had passed. Sanha stared at the gold numbers on the side of the entrance. Neither he nor Minhyuk seemed to want to take that first step into hitting at the door.

“Now what?” Sanha whispered.

“We knock.”

Minhyuk raised a fist, but Sanha quickly grabbed onto his arm and shook his head. “Since...since this is all my fault, let me-”

“It's not your fault, you moron.”

“It's-”

Before he could say anything else, Minhyuk knocked – quiet rapping at first, but when no answer came within the first minute or two, he began pounding harder.

It took five minutes for both boys to give up with a sigh. “Maybe they're out and about?” Sanha whispered, as if their loud knocking hadn't already caught the attention of all the other neighbors nearby.

“Maybe.” Minhyuk pursed his lips and looked around for a second before reaching down and jiggling the doorknob.

The door opened suddenly, and Sanha gasped. “Minhyuk-!”

“Why did he leave it unlocked?”

“Minhyuk, it's breaking and ent-”

“We didn't break in; it was unlocked.” Minhyuk wrinkled his nose up and pushed the door open even farther. “Come on. Maybe they know we're here; it's a witch, after all. God, but it _stinks_ in here.”

Sanha sniffed, then quickly covered his hands with his nose. “Gross!” he commented. “Minhyuk, I don't want to go in. Can't we just wait for them?”

“Don't be such a baby-”

“Minhyuk!” Sanha pulled on his sweater, and Minhyuk finally looked over at him. “ _Please_ , Minhyuk! I don't _want_ to go in someone's house when they're not even home. I didn't sign up for _this_. Please?”

It didn't take very long for Minhyuk to finally agree. His piercing gaze had become soft when looking over Sanha's worried face, and so he nodded his head and closed the door again.

“Until six,” he mumbled. “Until six. And then we'll go inside.”

That gave them four hours, and as Minhyuk took a seat with his back against the brick wall, Sanha wondered if the witch would appear again in four hours.

He hoped so – but, then again, if the answer would be _no_ , he hoped the witch would just stay hidden. He didn't want to take rejection a second time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh the witch was supposed to be introduced this chapter but i ramble so we got this instead. expect the next chapter a lot sooner than this one was published; i got over my writers block for it, lol, and now i know where it needs to go!
> 
> (next chapter wont be happy either, just fyi)
> 
> send me three dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com).
> 
> IMPORTANT:::::: pls pls pls read [parkjinchu's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/parkjinchu/pseuds/parkjinchu) fic [stay](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11572947), bc it takes place in the witchcraft universe and it's beautiful socky and myungjin and i think i've read it at least six times now, not even lying. it's my favorite thing in the world, and it deserves so much attention. <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanha stopped, completely confused with Minhyuk's statement. Maybe he heard wrong. Maybe he heard completely and utterly wrong. “What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its ok and there's some cute socky until the end. then it's crap bc i cant' do this suspense to save my life

Four hours was rather quick when he was able to take a nap.

Minhyuk had promised that he would wake him if the witch showed up, so when Sanha felt his shoulders being shaken, he quickly rose from his slumber. “They're here?” His words were slurred as he blinked at the surroundings before them.

Minhyuk sighed loudly. “Nope,” he responded, hoisting himself to his feet. “But it's been _exactly_ four hours, and they're still not here, so I figured we can just head on inside and see what's going on.”

“Maybe they're working,” Sanha argued, playing with his fingers. “Maybe they're too busy with other stuff right now. I just think it's-”

“They wouldn't have left their door unlocked if they didn't want someone to sneak around.”

It sounded smart coming from Minhyuk, but Sanha still wrinkled his nose. “I don't think that's how it works,” he commented.

Minhyuk simply shrugged his shoulders. He didn't seem to care, and Sanha really wasn't in any sort of mood to argue what _breaking and entering_ really entailed. They _were_ on a bit of a rush, after all, to get the stupid bracelet off his arm. Perhaps this witch would be a nice witch, anyway. Maybe the witch would actually be helpful.

Optimism was his strong point, and Sanha would grasp onto it for as long as he was able to.

It did waver, however, the moment Minhyuk pushed the door open completely. The stench hit them again suddenly, and Sanha clasped a hand over his mouth.

“Fucking christ,” Minhyuk hissed, and Sanha nudged him. “Sorry, I forgot you were _ten_. But it really stinks in here.”

“I know,” Sanha responded miserably. He wanted to leave as soon as he was able. He couldn't even properly describe the smell. It was worse than the reek of garbage left out on a hot day, and it made him gag slightly. “Let's just hurry.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes and covered his nose with his arm, the sleeve pressed into his skin so he could breath in his own smell rather than whatever was covering the apartment. “Look for anything you can find that might tell us where they might be.”

“Maybe they work as a garbage man.”

Sanha's joke actually made Minhyuk snort; then again, Sanha thought, it could have just been the smell getting to him. Regardless, Sanha felt rather proud of himself and he walked a little farther into the apartment, deciding that he was going to prove to Minhyuk that he _wasn't_ scared of doing something illegal for the sake of ridding himself of his stigma.

But he totally was scared. He might be acting brace and courageous, but he felt his conscious trying to pull him back out the door again. Even if he believed the witches were doing something bad by making these bracelets for police stations, it wasn't _right_ to break into their house. It wasn't right to rifle through their things and demand that they help him.

“Minhyuk,” he whispered, tugging at his friend's sleeve. “Maybe we should wait again.”

“I'm not waiting any longer. I'll go crazy.”

“Maybe we should come back, then. They might just be out for the day. We don't know if maybe they're at work or hanging out with friends-”

“Sanha.” Minhyuk turned around, not yet removing his arm from his nose. “Breathe.” And then, “Never mind, bad idea. This smell's too awful to breathe in here. But, seriously, calm down. We managed to escape some crazed witch-lady, and I think we'll manage to escape whatever troubles we might run into here. Besides, it was more wrong of this witch to make a bracelet that put you in this situation than it is for us to look in their house. Whoever this witch is, they're an asshole.”

Sanha bit down on his lip. He didn't like deciding what was right and what was wrong, but maybe Minhyuk would know. Minhyuk was smart and had dealt with magic users for long time, it seemed. He probably understood the difference between good magic users and bad magic users.

Jinwoo was a good witch, which Sanha was basing all of his witch-judgement on. Jinwoo didn't hurt people or label them or spill their secrets. If this witch was already making bracelets for the government, they probably weren't on Jinwoo's level of good.

He inched into the living room, where things actually appeared rather normal. At least, as compared to the previous witch's house, things were normal. It was clean and orderly and Sanha didn't feel as if he would need to disinfect his body by stepping in there for more than five seconds. There were photographs on the bookshelf, mostly of a cute dog, but others of various locations from around Korea that Sanha recognized from textbooks and websites.

“Maybe he traveled a lot,” he said loudly, speaking to Minhyuk who had instantly gone in to investigate the kitchen.

Minhyuk poked his head out, chewing on something. “Witches travel a lot. Jinwoo-hyung said that he's been to a few different towns, because he needed to escape – I don't know, something like that. So maybe this witch was just trying to escape all of the shit people pile on witches and he ended up in different parts of-”

“Are you eating something?”

He could see a small snack in Minhyuk's hand now, some sort of chips, and he hurried forward. “Minhyuk, what the heck? This isn't _yours_.” He snatched it away from his friend, and when Minhyuk reached out to grab it, he held it high above Minhyuk's head. “Stop it! You're _stealing_ now! We're just supposed to look around, not eat from his kitchen.”

Minhyuk seemed to realize Sanha was much taller than he was and wouldn't give the food back so easily, so he huffed and straightened up. “You keep referring to the witch as a _him_. Why's that?”

“It doesn't seem like a girl's apartment, that's why. Lot of neutral colors. Not enough cute stuff.” Minhyuk raised an eyebrow at him, and Sanha shrugged helplessly. “What? My mom's always trying to add cute little stuffed animals around the house. I have several in my room.”

“You have cute little stuffed animals in your bedroom?”

He wasn't sure if Minhyuk was mocking him or not, but he pushed at the older boy anyway. “Stop being a jerk!” he hissed, and Minhyuk cackled. “Let's just keep searching, alright? I want to get out of here as soon as possible. What if the police show up again? Like, if one of the neighbors called because they noticed intruders-”

“No one saw us, and as long as we keep our voices down, no one will _hear_ us,” Minhyuk responded, smacking Sanha's shoulder. “And don't push me. God, my chest still hurts.”

He had almost forgotten about Minhyuk's wound, and he gasped. “Minhyuk, I'm so sorry! I didn't remember – did I mess it up? Is it really bad now?”

“Relax. It's fine. Just hurts when I move too quickly.”

He still felt bad, and he hurriedly brushed off Minhyuk's clothes, making certain to keep his hands away from where he knew he had bandaged. “Still...I'm sorry. My bad. I really didn't mean to.”

“It's fine!” Minhyuk grinned at him. “I was, ah, I was mostly just joking. It's not hurting that much at all today. I think your care has been helping it heal a lot faster.”

Sanha doubted that. All he did was follow along with what his phone told him when he had searched _how to take care of big cuts_. Really, anyone could have done the exact same, and probably have better results in the end, too.

But he didn't try to dispute it. Right now, finding the witch – or the whereabouts of the witch – was more important than arguing about medical care. He put the chips away with a huff and closed the cabinet doors. “You probably didn't discover anything, did you?”

“I definitely did!” Minhyuk pointed at the fridge. “I discovered that the witch – _he,_ if you're so sure – isn't going away for long. Probably not, anyway. Look, he has-” Minhyuk opened the door to the refrigerator, “-milk that expires in a week, which must mean he bought it rather recently.”

He was right. Even if he was going through food packets and seeing what was still good to eat, Minhyuk was _right_. The witch must still be around somewhere, and he might be showing up anytime soon now to find two young adults sneaking around his apartment.

Sanha's heart hammered in his chest. “If he's so nearby, then, let's go outside and wait for him!”

“No way! I want to figure out what the awful smell is. It's so clean in here, I'm shocked it stinks this bad.”

And Minhyuk was off again, hurrying back to the living room, claiming that he was just, “looking over anything you might have missed, Sanha – you're probably searching near the ceiling, what with those gigantic giraffe legs of yours.”

Sanha would have been insulted, but he was trying to remember how many years people who broke in and rifled through an apartment would receive in jail. He would call his father, but- well, that was an issue, and he decided not to focus on the fact he wasn't even speaking with his parents.

So he followed Minhyuk instead, making certain he kept an ear out just in case the witch decided to show up suddenly. Minhyuk was looking through a bookshelf before moving over to a nearby desk. “Very neat and orderly,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Someone this clean wouldn't allow the house to smell so awful, would he?”

Sanha shook his head as a response, but since Minhyuk couldn't see, he realized he would have to voice his opinion. “No,” he murmured, glancing over at the front door. “Minhyuk, maybe we should leave now. We've gone through enough of what he has, and I think if we keep going, he might come back and spot us-”

“We've barely figured out anything, except that he's been around at least within the past week, since he bought that milk. And people who go on vacations or leave for a long time don't buy a brand new carton of milk and just leave it in their fridge.”

“Maybe he _had_ to go. Maybe someone was after him. That might be why he left the door unlocked, because he was in such a hurry.”

Minhyuk's eyebrows furrowed, and he shrugged his shoulders as he opened a desk drawer. “Maybe,” he replied.

Sanha wrung his hands in front of him, watching the clock on the wall nearby tick down the seconds. Seconds until, Sanha told himself, the witch came back and did worse than the old lady had done. Maybe this one would kill them outright. Maybe this one would _also_ phone the police, and they would have to maneuver around that again.

But if they did that, Sanha was the only one who could turn into a bug. Minhyuk would have to defend himself if Sanha shifted.

So, Sanha made up his mind that he _wouldn't_ shift. He would remain in his human form so as to not leave Minhyuk behind – not again. He couldn't do it a second time around.

Minhyuk snapped his fingers in his face suddenly, effectively bringing Sanha out of his thoughts. The younger boy blinked and noticed Minhyuk had been trying to get his attention for a few seconds. “S-Sorry. What is it?”

“Stop overthinking things, Sanha. Just- here, look.” Minhyuk held up a book proudly and grinned. “I found his planner.”

It felt invasive to look in on someone else's personal activities and chores, but Minhyuk didn't hesitate to flip through the pages, landing on their current month. It was filled mostly with important dates or when bills were due. Sanha didn't see much evidence of any social outings or work-related events, but he supposed a witch _probably_ wouldn't have much of a chance to do any of that.

Minhyuk stared for longer than necessary. The planning cut off a few days earlier, but Sanha didn't see anything shifty other than that. He shook Minhyuk's shoulder. “Minhyuk, there's nothing in here. Can we just leave-”

“Hold on.” Minhyuk flipped backwards a few pages, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Sanha decided to say nothing else. If Minhyuk was onto something, he would allow the search to continue.

“This is familiar,” Minhyuk whispered. “I don't know why, but it's familiar.”

“What is? Searching through someone's planner?”

“No, you idiot. It's...” Minhyuk tapped a tanned finger on the page. “It's the writing. I don't know why, just his...his writing seems familiar.”

Sanha didn't see what Minhyuk was seeing, apparently, because it looked like normal handwriting to him. He just shrugged his shoulders. “Did you know anyone who used to live in this city?”

“I...don't think so.” Minhyuk kept his eyes on the writing, scanning it over, before sighing and putting it away back in its drawer. “It's weird, though. I _know_ I've seen it somewhere before.”

“Maybe it was someone you grew up with?”

“Maybe.”

Minhyuk didn't seem convinced, and Sanha decided he wasn't going to keep that particular conversation going. Instead, he tugged on Minhyuk's sleeve once again and gestured to the door. “Let's go now, okay? He might be back-”

But Minhyuk shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “I just...I want to look around just a _little_ bit longer, Sanha. If we try out his bedroom, we _really_ might find something useful that we'll be able to use. It looks like it's right down this-”

“Minhyuk, we'll get in _trouble_ if we get caught!”

“ _If_ we get caught.”

Sanha frowned. “I don't like the idea of replaying the events from the other day,” he mumbled. “Of...of you getting hurt like that again. What if the witch is mean, like the previous one? What if he tries to hurt us for trespassing in his house, or just for asking for his help in general? And what if he calls the police and they come and see my bracelet? And what-”

Minhyuk reached up then and grabbed onto Sanha's cheeks. He cupped them in the palms of his hands, warm and comforting and calming. Sanha ceased in his worries, staring back at Minhyuk with wide eyes. “Minhyuk-”

“Five seconds of deep breaths, Sanha.” And Minhyuk breathed with him – in and out, in and out, until the hammering of Sanha's heart hit against his chest for a reason _other_ than fear. “Are we good now, Sanha? Can we continue?”

Sanha didn't trust his voice at the moment, so he nodded his head, and Minhyuk seemed satisfied. His hands lingered for a second or two more before he cleared his throat and let them drop. “Alright. We'll search the bedroom and then we'll leave. Is that okay?”

“That's...yeah.” His words came out in a squeak, and Minhyuk glanced back at him in amusement.

“If you're sure...”

“I'm sure.”

Minhyuk smiled and gave Sanha's shoulder a small pat. “We'll get through it,” he said. “We're going to find this dumb witch and we'll get the bracelet off and we'll go get drunk in our motel room without Jinwoo or Myungjun ever noticing.”

Sanha was being led into the bedroom, and he didn't try to pull back. “W-Won't, um, won't Myungjun maybe check where we spent the money?”

“You can buy soju at a regular store,” Minhyuk pointed out. “He can't check individual purchases. We'll be safe.”

Once they opened the door to the bedroom, the smell seemed to worsen, and Minhyuk lost his smile rather hurriedly. “Fucking _gross-_ ” he cursed, earning himself another shove from Sanha. “I'm sorry, but it's _bad_ in here, Sanha-”

“So let's go!”

Minhyuk _seemed_ ready to agree, but then he glanced over at the dresser nearby, where even more photographs stood, displayed in very simple frames. Sanha would have ignored it, except Minhyuk seemed shocked just looking at them.

So Sanha looked, too.

It didn't look weird to him. It was pictures of a young man with a young child. They looked happy, as well, for being photos in a witch's house; there was a picture of the two fishing and a picture of them at a theme park and another picture of them sleeping together on the couch. The man looked _nice_ , and Sanha wondered if maybe there was nothing at all to be concerned about.

“Is that the witch?” he asked. “He has a son? Or...or some sort of kid, I don't-”

Minhyuk didn't seem to be listening. He hurried forward and grabbed onto one of the frames, grasping it tightly in his hands and staring down at it. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “Oh my god-”

He spun around, and Sanha wondered why he had such a crazed look in his gaze. “That smell – Sanha, where the hell is it coming from?”

But Sanha had no clue. He nervously shrugged his shoulders, watching as Minhyuk flung opened the closet and checked under the bed. “Minhyuk? Minhyuk, what's going on?”

Minhyuk didn't reply. Instead, he glanced over at the bathroom door with caution before inching forward and pushing it open.

Sanha peeked over Minhyuk's shoulder all the while, and he really wished he hadn't. Swinging from the ceiling was a man, hung with what appeared to be a tie from a nice suit. He must have been there for a few days, as well – Sanha had wished he didn't _know_ what a decomposing corpse looked like, and he realized suddenly that was what he had been smelling the entire time.

He stumbled backwards with a loud scream and covered his nose and mouth as quickly as possible. He had to leave. He had to get out of there, get _away_ from the rotting body that swung gently before him, but Minhyuk was stuck, staring up at it.

Sanha grit his teeth down and grabbed Minhyuk's shoulder in an attempt to pull him back, though he tried not to look at the figure. “Minhyuk!” he gasped out.

Minhyuk finally tore his eyes away from the bathroom, and Sanha realized they were filled with tears. Maybe he, too, was shocked. Maybe he had never seen a dead body before, either. “Minhyuk-” he tried again, but Minhyuk broke him off this time.

“Sanha.” A shaky finger pointed at the dead body. “Sanha, th-that's my _dad_.”

His words caught in his throat and came out high-pitched.

Sanha stopped, completely confused with Minhyuk's statement. Maybe he heard wrong. Maybe he heard completely and utterly wrong. “What?”

“It's...oh my god, Sanha-” Minhyuk took a step back from the bathroom, and Sanha wondered if he was about to break down. “That's me in the photos. And...and _that's_ my _dad-_ ”

And then he did cry, large, ugly wails as he looked back to face his father, and Sanha could only stare at his friend in horror. He felt helpless; it was different from watching Minhyuk in physical pain, and, yet, even if there was no blood protruding from Minhyuk's chest, Sanha felt the same helplessness wash over him as his best friend broke down.

All he could do was grab onto him and hold him close.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW HAHA WHAT SUSPENSE, WHAT AN ENDING
> 
> i've been planning minhyuk's daddy-o reveal for a while now, so i finally get to show it! not happy, tho, not a happy lil reunion. but more will be explained next chapter, i promise. (also, more socky next chapter???)
> 
> tbh, i think there's about 5-6 chapters left, but knowing me, i'll add on one or two more. expect it to be ABOUT as long as elementary was.
> 
> i've already started on the final installment to the _magic users_ series, so that will pop up when shifter is fully complete. 
> 
> pls feel free to drop some dollar bills in my tumblr askbox [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com)!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The words seemed to resonate with Minhyuk, and he breathed deeply. “You don't blame him for it?” he asked. “Be honest, Sanha. Do you blame my dad – if he made that bracelet you're wearing, would you blame him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some explanation - not all of it, but some of it!

Their hotel room was somber and hushed.

Sanha didn't dare break the quiet mood. Even if he wanted to, he had no idea what to even _think_ , let alone what to say. Questions tore at his mind, begging to be released, but none of them were coherent. His brain was scattered, trying to figure out what to focus all of its efforts on; Minhyuk's dad, though, was the major subject of all of them.

After the second hour of the unusual silence, Sanha's mind began to compile all of his questions into a list; did Minhyuk know his dad was a witch, _why_ was Minhyuk's dad a witch, did Minhyuk's _mom_ know that his dad was a witch, did _Myungjun_ know, did Jinwoo know, was _Minhyuk_ also a witch? - the questions kept popping up, and all Sanha could do was store them away and stare helplessly at Minhyuk's back, where the older boy lay curled up on the bed, as if closing himself off to the world.

His tears had dried up and he had urged Sanha out of the house, away from the smell of a rotting corpse. “Minhyuk,” Sanha had whispered as they walked down the street, “were you being serious? Was that your dad?”

Minhyuk hadn't responded; he hadn't even bothered giving Sanha a sign that he had _heard_ him. Instead, he wrapped his arms around himself, as if warding off the cold that wasn't even present, and walked faster.

“Minhyuk?” Sanha tried again, catching up easily with his long legs and tugging at Minhyuk's sleeve. “Minhyuk, should we tell someone?”

“Who would care?” Minhyuk choked out, and Sanha didn't try any other questions after that. After all, Minhyuk was correct; who _would_ care? According to everyone else, magic users were better off dead, _especially_ witches.

So, instead, they had fallen into this uncomfortable silence. Sanha sat on the edge of the bed, playing with his wristband and occasionally picking up the remote, wondering whether or not he should turn the television on. He also wondered whether or not he should actually _comfort_ Minhyuk. He had tried earlier, once or twice, but what was he supposed to say when Minhyuk found the body of his father? He didn't know how to properly comfort someone when they faced such a loss.

It took one more hour for Minhyuk to finally move. Sanha had started to doze off at that point, but once he heard the rustling from Minhyuk's side of the bed, he stumbled to his feet and cleared his throat.

Minhyuk turned over, eyes red-rimmed and face blotchy. He looked dreadful, and Sanha could only stammer, “Si-Since it's, um, it's getting late, maybe we should...we should sleep?”

Minhyuk simply stared at him.

“Sleep,” Sanha repeated, and gestured to the bed. “So, um...tomorrow we...we can...” He didn't want to make it about himself; even if this journey _was_ to remove his bracelet, he couldn't bring it up. He sat back on the bed, turning this time to face Minhyuk properly, and met his gaze. “Minhyuk, what do you want to do next?”

Minhyuk sniffed once. “What else?” he murmured. His voice was scratchy. “I want to find the next witch and get that fucking thing off of you.”

Sanha didnt' like the bitter tone, but he wasn't going to fuss. Minhyuk deserved to be upset, and Sanha wouldn't stop him.

“Minhyuk?” He broke their eye contact and stared down at the blanket covering Minhyuk's bed. “Your dad...he was the second witch, right?”

From the corner of his vision, he could make out Minhyuk stiffen slightly before nodding his head, movements slow. “He... _was_.”

“Did you know he was a witch?”

Minhyuk looked so sad and lost, and Sanha wondered if it would be too bold of him to reach out and hug his friend once again. Before he could act on his impulse, however, Minhyuk responded, “I did.”

“You _did?_ ”

“I didn't expect him to...be one of the witches we had to find.” Minhyuk wiped at his face, at the tears still lingering on his eyelashes. “He moved away when I was...when I was young. I don't remember much of him, but...I remember _him_.”

Sanha nodded his head, trying to pretend he still wasn't recovering from his _own_ shock of learning that Minhyuk's dad had been a magic user. “Why did he move away?”

“My mom found out.” Minhyuk sighed and moved his hands down to his jeans, gripping onto the fabric tightly. “They had been married for a while, and he had managed to keep it hidden. His parents knew, but they both died before he married my mom. And, as far as I know, she never figured it out until later. _I_ knew.”

Sanha sat cross-legged, letting Minhyuk spill his story. The older boy had to take a deep breath here and there, prepping himself for the next part, for the next sentence, for the next horrible truth he was prepared to unveil. “He was doing magic one day, and I saw him, but...I know everyone told me I needed to be terrified of witches. My mom always told me magic users were evil, and up until that point, I had...I believed her. But then I realized my _dad_ was a magic user.

“My dad used to take me on picnics while my mom worked. He was always at my award shows for taekwondo and he'd always cheer me on louder than anyone, so when I learned that he was a witch, I...didn't feel affected as much. I mean, it was a shock, but...my dad was good, so how could witches be so bad?”

His acceptance of magic users, then, suddenly made sense. Sanha _understood_ why he acted so nonchalant about his shapeshifting, and why he so willingly lived with a witch and a necromancer. He had been used to it already, and had seen nothing wrong with it. “So your dad...he was _good?_ ”

Minhyuk almost looked like he was ready to be offended with the question, and Sanha quickly backtracked before his words could be taken the wrong way. “I just meant...because the other witch was bad, I thought, maybe that...I mean, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking and I blurted it out, and of course your dad was good-”

“Obviously not, if he made those stupid bracelets.” Minhyuk seemed defeated again, and he dipped his chin down to his chest in order to avoid looking Sanha in the eyes. “I never thought my _dad_ would...would make bracelets. He was always good and told me...he told me never to judge people by their magical abilities. He said it didn't make the person.”

Sanha stared at the wristband around his arm, at the small sliver of red that was peeking from one side of the fabric. He liked that advice. His shapeshifting had never defined him. And when he had learned that Myungjun was a necromancer and Jinwoo was a witch, he never let _that_ define _them_. In the end, Myungjun was his overexcited next-door neighbor, and Jinwoo was the sweet man who had appealed himself to Sanha's mother and probably half of the older ladies in their complex.

By Minhyuk's words, then, his father should have been nice and kind and accepting, and yet he made those bracelets. He willingly attached labels to other magic users who probably deserved nothing of the sort. So, in the end, _was_ he a good man? Or did he deserve Sanha's distrust and contempt for regressing into someone who was, for some reason, against other magic users?

But Sanha noticed Minhyuk staring over at him, a pain in his eyes, a request for Sanha to deny the fact that his father might have been a bad man. It was unspoken, silent, and yet it was still there, lingering somewhere in the space between the two boys, waiting for Sanha to reach out and grasp a hold of it.

Normally, Sanha wouldn't. Normally, he wouldn't lie. But for Minhyuk - “Do you remember that first witch we visited?” he asked.

Minhyuk seemed surprised with the question, but he slowly nodded his head regardless.

“She claimed that no one trusted her, and they would kill her if she didn't agree to make the bracelets. Maybe your dad...maybe he was found out, and this was the only way to stay alive.”

The words seemed to resonate with Minhyuk, and he breathed deeply. “You don't blame him for it?” he asked. “Be honest, Sanha. Do you blame my dad – if he made that bracelet you're wearing, would you blame him?”

Sanha could feel the wristband, soft against his skin, hiding the one thing that made him an outcast from the rest of the world. He recalled the terror he felt when the bracelet stuck to his arm, when the label appeared as if tattooed permanently. He remembered leaving his parents behind, their well-being now a mystery to him. And he remembered that witch who had scarred Minhyuk, who had tried to ruin his life, and the accusing eyes in that ice cream shop when his status had been discovered.

If Minhyuk's dad was the person who made the bracelet, who willingly condemned him, would Sanha hate him?

But then he remembered the photograph he had found in the bedroom, the one Minhyuk had kept with him and had carefully placed in one of their travel bags. He remembered the smiles on both of their faces as they stared back at the camera, oblivious of any hardships that would come their way later on.

Most of all, he remembered Minhyuk's tears soaking his shirt, as he was faced with not only the prospect that his father had killed himself, that his father was no longer alive, but also the idea that his father had been working _against_ magic users this entire time.

Minhyuk's father wasn't important to Sanha. It didn't matter whether his father made the bracelet or not; if his father hadn't, some other witch would have. What mattered, though, was Minhyuk.

“I wouldn't blame him,” he murmured softly. “Because, like I said, maybe he didn't have much of a choice. And...and if you loved him, he wasn't a bad person.”

It seemed as if that was the correct thing to say. Minhyuk visibly relaxed, releasing the breath he had been holding while awaiting Sanha's answer. He moved his body so he was no longer on the edge of the bed, but closer to Sanha now, his head leaning up against the pillows that were stacked behind him.

“My mom figured out,” he blurted out, and it took Sanha a few seconds to learn what Minhyuk was talking about. “She learned that...that my dad was a witch.”

“She didn't like witches?”

“Hell no.” Minhyuk snorted, wiping at his face one last time. “She hated _all_ magic users. So she left him as quickly as she could. She just...made me pack my bags one day and told me we were going on a trip. I remember waiting in the car and I could hear her yelling at my dad. She told him if he ever came looking for us, she would definitely call the police on him.” He trailed off for a few seconds, playing with his fingers, then mumbled, “And...that was the last time I saw him. We moved away, to where Myungjun lived.”

Sanha nodded his head. “You became friends with him because you were used to magic, right?”

“Yeah. And because no one else wanted to hang out near my house because he was a necromancer, and that was scary to a bunch of kids, I guess. So he just became my only friend by default. Except, my mom realized who he was and banned him from my house.”

“Seriously? She _banned_ him?”

“Yeah.” Minhyuk was staring down at the bedsheets, picking at them so as to not look up at Sanha again. “And she banned me from going over to see him. I went anyway, though. I would sneak in his house at night. I think _his_ dad knew. He always told me to be careful. Myungjun did, too, but...I had to run from my dad, and I realized I never wanted to leave someone else behind again. My dad wasn't dangerous. Myungjun isn't dangerous. If they've never done anything to harm anyone, why should I stay away from them?”

It was quiet again. Sanha subconsciously felt his hand move over to the wristband, wrapping his fingers around it. “Is that why you won't stay away from me?”

“Well, _you've_ done dangerous stuff.”

“Wha- I have _not!_ ” Sanha huffed in indignation, and he turned his eyes back to Minhyuk. “Name _one_.”

“Are you kidding me? You helped Dongmin and Bin plant _drugs_ in someone's backpack!”

Well. He had forgotten about that, but he shook his head. “It doesn't count. I was helping out Myungjun and Jinwoo! If I hadn't done that, those two kids would probably still be gloating-”

“I didn't say it was _bad_. I just...said it was dangerous.” Minhyuk had a small smile on his face. “And you faced off with that...that first witch. I mean, you've done some dangerous stuff in the past few weeks, Sanha. I didn't think you had it in you.”

“I'm unpredictable.”

Minhyuk laughed, a quick and short burst that fell from his lips before a hand came up and covered his mouth. Sanha liked the sound, though, especially after over an hour of silence after Minhyuk's breakdown. He wanted Minhyuk to be happy. He wanted Minhyuk to smile and laugh. He wanted Minhyuk to never cry again. And if he could somehow be a healing presence at this time, he would definitely accept his role. He would do everything in his power in order to ensure Minhyuk wasn't alone in his sorrow.

“You're not unpredictable at _all_ , Sanha,” Minhyuk commented. “I knew exactly how you would react in every single situation.”

“You didn't know I would ever fabricate evidence, did you?”

Minhyuk was quiet for a second, obviously (Sanha told himself) not wanting to admit that Sanha was right, before shoving at Sanha's shoulder. “I didn't know you'd ever be such a _stupid idiot_ , if that's what you're trying to say.”

“Am not! Does any part of me look like a stupid idiot?”

Minhyuk didn't even hesitate this time. “All of you.”

And Sanha couldn't help but giggle, proud to see a smile lighting up his friend's face. He leaned into Minhyuk, resting his head on his shoulder, and glanced up at him. “But you love me,” he teased.

He realized, too, once he said it, it was probably the wrong thing to say. Minhyuk blinked and the happiness was gone, replaced instead with doubt and confusion. He met Sanha's gaze and took a deep breath. “I what?”

Sanha's head shot up in a panic. He had assumed it would be taken as a friendly jab, as something two guys would casually fling about to each other. At least, that was how it had been with a lot of his friends in high school, and he had seen Myungjun and Minhyuk use the exact same terminology. Why did Minhyuk take it differently, then? And why did Sanha _feel_ like he meant it differently? _Love_ was a term used to describe two friends, wasn't it? And even if Sanha wanted them to be more than friends, it wasn't a mutual feeling at all, and Minhyuk should only accept it as platonic.

“I didn't...I think we should go to bed,” he stammered out. “It's been a long day and-and I know it...it was a hard day for both of us.”

“For both of us?”

“For you, mostly! For you! Because...of, um, of what we saw.”

Sanha felt like he was digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole he had created of his own accord. Minhyuk's face was screwed up again, nose crinkled and eyebrows furrowed together as the thoughts he had just managed to forget were racing back to him. Sanha would have cursed himself if he wasn't so scared of saying anything _else_ wrong.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I didn't mean...I just...y-you know how I get, I'm...”

“It's okay,” Minhyuk assured him, but he didn't look like it was okay. “You didn't...do anything wrong.”

There was an awkward tension now, and it felt like the slightest misstep could make something snap. Sanha hardly dared breathe, until he realized that Minhyuk probably wouldn't do anything to remedy the situation, not after having to think through their day all over again. From the looks of it, he was probably imagining his father's body, hanging there, a corpse rotting by itself-

“Minhyuk-hyung.” Sanha was on his knees now, leaning forward and grabbing at Minhyuk's hands. “I'm so, _so_ sorry! I never think before I speak! When I met Myungjun for the first time, I made him cry, and now I'm being a jerk again, and I just don't mean to! I've never meant to – l-look, if you feel really bad, I can make it up to you. Anything you want!”

Minhyuk bit at his lip. “It's fine, Sanha. Seriously. I just...he was my _dad_.” Minhyuk's voice was breaking. “And he...he just...” Sanha could see him swallow thickly before ducking his head into his chest and gritting at his teeth. “I'm sorry, Sanha, I'm-”

“Don't apologize! What did _you_ do wrong, Minhyuk?” Sanha squeezed the older boy's hands. “I'm sorry I dragged you on this journey! Because now you got hurt and you will have a scar and you had to see _that_ , and I've ruined _everything_ for you!” Sanha felt that guilt come back, striking horribly at his heart, twisting it and wringing it in its grasp. He should have refused Minhyuk's assistance. Then, Minhyuk wouldn't be suffering. Minhyuk would still be happy.

“I'll make it up to you,” he promised again, more sincerely this time. “Minhyuk, _anything_ – I'll make it all up to you for dragging you with me and forcing you t-to see that. Please let me make it up to you.”

Minhyuk was quiet for a second, tired, watery eyes staring back into Sanha's. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

There was hesitation on Minhyuk's end, but Sanha looked at him hopefully, wanting to make up for the days he had been pulling Minhyuk along, ruining both of their lives as they continued on a useless journey that probably wouldn't solve anything at all.

“You have nothing to make up for,” Minhyuk started slowly, “but if...if you really feel like you need to make up for something, then...”

Sanha nodded his head, waiting for the completion of that sentence.

It was mumbled quickly, quietly, and Sanha was afraid at first he had missed it, but his brain processed the statement and he blinked. “What?”

Minhyuk took a deep breath and repeated the question.

“Kiss me?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnd you guys will have to wait, like, another week because i have become very very slow at updating, rip seal and rip minhyuk's daddyo.
> 
> if you enjoyed, pls send me dolla bills over at [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com)!!! come talk to me, i love to talk.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then Sanha made up his mind; he would take Minhyuk's love. Selfishly and greedily, he would accept it, and he would allow himself to love Minhyuk back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yo yo, it's been a while since i updated this. i apOLOGIZE! with school back up, it's difficult to get anything done. regardless, i hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Sanha liked to help people.

Even if sometimes he knew _he_ caused the mistakes, he liked to remedy things. He tried to fix whatever was wrong, and he took the requests of those he was helping very seriously.

But Minhyuk's request was...difficult, to say the least.

_Kiss me_.

The words replayed in Sanha's head, over and over again.

A kiss involved two willing parties. A kiss involved lips. A kiss involved feelings, either of affection or love or attraction – something that Sanha had assumed Minhyuk would never feel for him. After all, Minhyuk was cool and composed and mature. Why would Minhyuk ever _want_ to date someone younger and taller and _magical?_ Why was Minhyuk asking to _kiss_ someone younger and taller and magical? The words made no sense, and Sanha blinked at the older boy in confusion.

He wanted Minhyuk to repeat himself for a third time; once more, maybe, and then Sanha could be certain that he had heard the request correctly. But, by the time Sanha opened his mouth, Minhyuk was taking a step back, shaking his head slowly, seeming very unsure of the words he had uttered.

“I...I wasn't thinking, Sanha.”

Sanha said nothing. He simply stared at Minhyuk, trying to process everything he knew.

Did Minhyuk _like_ him? Did Minhyuk _want_ a kiss? No one would _want_ a kiss unless they _liked_ someone, right?

So then why the sudden desire for a kiss if there was nothing going on between the two of them?

“Can we...can we forget this ever happened?” Minhyuk looked nervous. “I'm...I'm stressed and tired, and I just wasn't thinking things through. Please, Sanha, just-”

“So you don't _actually_ want a kiss?” Sanha needed to make sure of it all. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. While everything seemed new and confusing, he decided that he _wanted_ Minhyuk to request a kiss. Even if it was weird, even if he wasn't certain what to respond with, part of him really wanted to hear those words again.

_Kiss me_.

He wouldn't deny that he had dreams of kissing Minhyuk before. He wouldn't deny that sometimes he wanted Minhyuk to hug him intimately, to hold his hand as they walked down the street, to nudge him flirtatiously and wink at him – but those were simply dreams and thoughts and wishes. Those weren't things he imagined would ever come true.

So then why, suddenly, _was it_ coming true?

“I...don't,” Minhyuk stammered out. He shook his head again. “L-Look, it just came out in a rush. I wasn't thinking straight. I was...I was remembering my, um, my mom's kisses, and...I just projected that onto you. She used to kiss me when I felt upset.”

It was a disappointment, really, and Sanha knew he needed to let it go. If Minhyuk didn't mean it, he didn't mean it. That was all there was to it.

But yet, something seemed odd about his explanation, and as Minhyuk turned to throw back the covers to his bed, Sanha finally pinpointed the issue.

“I thought you...you said you weren't on good terms with your mother.”

Minhyuk spun back around, eyes wide. “What?”

He felt like he was overstepping boundaries, but Sanha _needed_ to figure out what was going on. No one blurted out _kiss me_ without expecting an actual kiss. “You said your mom used to give you kisses, but earlier, you said...you weren't on good terms with her.”

His statement seemed to fluster Minhyuk, who licked at his lips and glanced around the room. Sanha recognized the tension, and he figured it probably wouldn't be nice of him to make Minhyuk so nervous right after his own father passed.

Sanha would just have to continue being confused. Minhyuk's well-being was far more important to him.

“It's okay,” he assured quickly, and when Minhyuk looked back at him, Sanha smiled as convincingly as he possibly could. “I figured that you just weren't thinking right!”

Minhyuk was still silent. His hands remained on the covers he had just pulled back, fingers curling into the fabric before relaxing their hold. He licked at his lips, then slowly sat on the bed. “Right,” he murmured. “Right.”

Sanha didn't know _how_ he was controlling himself right now. Every single instinct in his body told him to flee, told him to run away and scream as loud as he could, because _Park Minhyuk_ had asked to _kiss him_. Or, rather, had asked Sanha to kiss _him,_ but it was the same concept, wasn't it? Minhyuk wanted to kiss.

Or he didn't.

Or Sanha just had no idea what was actually going on.

“Sanha?” Minhyuk was staring at the ground now, legs stretched out in front of him. His questioning tone snapped Sanha out of his thoughts, and the taller boy glanced back at him.

“Yeah?”

Minhyuk kicked at the ground, socked feet hitting the soft carpet. “Sanha, I need you to, um, to rewrap my bandages.”

Sanha hadn't expected that request. He hadn't expected the request about the kiss, and he hadn't expected, right after that, to be asked about the bandages. His mind wasn't catching up correctly, but when Minhyuk finally looked up at him, he sprung into action.

“Ri-Right. Because...because we just don't want it to be infected, right?”

“Right.”

It was a quiet affair after that. Sanha applied the medicine onto Minhyuk's wound, which was still a nasty red and was _definitely_ going to scar over. Minhyuk didn't stare at him and talk as he normally would have. He was sullen, silent, and Sanha guessed that he was going through all of his _own_ thoughts on everything that had occurred.

Sanha longed to talk. He longed to possibly discuss the situation they were now in, with the last witch their only chance for normality, or maybe a conversation about _what_ Minhyuk's father was doing making those bracelets, or anything else that wasn't this terribly awkward silence.

But Minhyuk didn't speak, and so Sanha didn't speak.

The bandages were put on and Minhyuk instantly moved to get under the covers. Sanha tried asking him to change, but it appeared to fall on deaf ears.

He had never seen Minhyuk act in such a manner. He supposed, though, after what they had been through and what they had seen, it was to be expected.

Sanha bid him good night, then climbed into his own bed.

He couldn't sleep very well, however. Anytime he closed his eyes, images of previous events hit him harshly, reminding him of everything he had gotten the both of them into. If not for him, Minhyuk wouldn't be hurt. If not for him, Minhyuk wouldn't be in an unfamiliar city. If not for him, Minhyuk would have never seen his father's corpse.

If not for him, Minhyuk would be with Myungjun and Jinwoo, and probably Dongmin and Bin. They would all be happy. They would be safe and comfortable. Minhyuk wouldn't be worrying and crying and trying to remain strong.

Sanha clenched at the covers and bit down on his lip.

He had ruined things for all of them.

He should have just accepted his fate. He was better off as an outcast of society. Maybe he could have moved, left everyone else behind, and started anew. They wouldn't have to deal with him if he had done that. They wouldn't have to risk their _own_ happiness and well-being for him.

Sanha decided that he wasn't going to get any sleep at all.

He sat up in bed. The darkness of the room engulfed him; the streetlamps outside were dim, and they were too high up for it to make much of a difference, anyway. Sanha waited for his eyes to adjust, and he scanned the area around him.

Their suitcases lay nearby. His own was opened and clothes were strewn out. Minhyuk's was closed, and on top rest the picture frame he had stolen from his father's house, a testament of times far greater than what they _had_ become. Sanha felt guilt churn in his stomach.

_Shouldn't have come here_ , he thought.

_Shouldn't have been born_ , he thought.

He stood from the bed, slowly, carefully. Perhaps he could leave. Minhyuk was asleep, so Sanha observed, and he would be none the wiser if Sanha just walked out of the door right then and there.

But how could he leave Minhyuk _now?_ Minhyuk would be left by himself, and while Sanha _knew_ his best friend was strong in mind and heart, would it really be the best thing to just leave him after discovering something so horrific?

Maybe, instead, he would stay for a bit. He would pray and pray that the last witch would offer assistance.

And if not, he could come up with a new plan.

He stood awkwardly near his bed. If he wasn't going to leave and he wasn't going to sleep, then what _could_ he do?

_Stand here all night?_ he thought, and then he ran his fingers through his hair.

Maybe standing all night was the best course of action. Did he even deserve sleep at this point? Did he even deserve rest? After everything _he_ had ended up causing, why should he be allowed pleasures of life?

He would stand, then. He would stand all night. He would stand until he fell over, and then he would force himself to stand up again.

“Sanha?”

The soft voice from beside him caused Sanha to jump, and he spun around.

Despite the lack of proper lighting, he could clearly see Minhyuk, sitting up in his bed and rubbing at his eyes. He yawned; or, maybe, he opened his mouth to say something before closing it again. And other than that first word, he said nothing else.

Sanha glanced over at the clock nearby, the dim glow reading out the time. Sometime after three in the morning. Sanha wondered how long he had been in bed before standing up.

“Minhyuk?”

“Why are you up?” Minhyuk questioned, and Sanha could see him running his fingers through his hair. “Are...are you alright?”

Sanha wasn't sure what to tell him. If he said _fine_ , he would have to explain his reasoning for standing up in the middle of the night. If he said _not fine_ , he would have to explain why _he_ was allowed to be sad and upset, when clearly Minhyuk was the one who had gone through worse.

Rather than do either, he stammered, “I-I was going to go to the bathroom.”

“You've been standing for, like, five minutes.”

He hadn't _thought_ it was that long, and he hadn't thought that Minhyuk would have taken any sort of notice. With no way to defend himself, he licked his lips and cleared his throat. “It, um...it's not a big deal, Minhyuk-hyung. You should go back to sleep.”

“What, and just leave you standing there all night?”

“I wasn't going to stand here all night.”

“Then what were you going to do?”

Sanha shifted where he stood. “I was...I was going to do _something_. I just...I forgot what it was. It'll come back to me in a few minutes, so you should just go back to sleep and I'll figure it out.”

Minhyuk was quiet, but he didn't lay back down. “Sanha, come here.”

“No.”

“Sanha, seriously, just come here.”

“For what, Hyung?”

“So I can tell you everything will be alright and we'll get through this together.”

Sanha tried to glare at Minhyuk the best he could; he doubted it did much difference in the darkness. “I'm _fine_. I'm not worried about anything, and-and I should be the one comforting _you!_ Why do _you_ always have to comfort _me?_ When you left-left Myungjun and Jinwoo, you comforted _me_ , and when you got hurt, you comforted _me_ , and when your dad was _dead_ , you comforted _me!_ ” Sanha could feel the hysterics rising up in him as he was forced to realize the actions he had taken, the consequences he had forced Minhyuk to accept. “Why are you doing this, Minhyuk? Why d-don't you hate me, like everyone else in the world? It'd be easier if you did, and then you wouldn't _be_ here, in this stupid mess, and you'd be safe! Why are you _doing this?_ ”

Minhyuk didn't respond. He sat there, silent, as Sanha tried desperately not to cry. He sniffled and coughed and held back his tears, and he could just barely make out Minhyuk's gaze trained straight on him.

“D-Do friends do this?” Sanha asked. His voice was down to a whisper, and he wrapped his arms around himself, holding tightly. “Do friends go through-through everything you've been through for someone?”

He liked to think that both Jinwoo and Myungjun would have done the exact same for him. They both seemed to care for him. However, both of them _were_ magic users. They understood what it was like to be in his position, at least to some extent. Minhyuk was normal, and normal people were regarded highly in this world. Normal people deserved everything good; magic users did not. And a normal person allying themselves with a magic user was basically _begging_ for condemnation.

And Minhyuk did so willingly.

“Friends do this,” Minhyuk finally replied. He spoke softly, and Sanha sniffed once more and had to lean in slightly in order to hear. “Friends stick by each others' sides, no matter what. When...when I saw my dad, Sanha, _you_ were there. You didn't _want_ to be near a dead...a dead body, but you were, regardless. You stayed with me until I was able to leave. Friends do _that_ , too, don't they?”

“But I was scared,” Sanha admitted. “ _I_ wanted to leave.”

“But you didn't. You stayed. That's the important part. As scared as you were, you...you chose _me_ over your own fear. When I first got hurt, I could tell you didn't know what to do. And, even though I know it was scary to deal with all of that blood, you...you did it anyway.”

Sanha rubbed at his nose and took a deep, shaky breath. “And none of that would have happened if-if I had just left on my own,” he commented.

Minhyuk was standing from his own bed. “If you left on your own, that first witch would have let the police get you,” he fussed. “Unless you would have escaped on your own.”

“I would have,” Sanha was quick to respond, but then he gave a mirthless laugh. “Who am I kidding, though, Hyung? I should have let her catch me. _We_ should have let her catch me.” He couldn't see very well, but he could definitely feel Minhyuk's questioning stare. “And then the police could take me and lock me up and no one would ever have to worry about me again.”

“Are you-”

Sanha interrupted him, though, quickly, hurriedly, trying to speak before the tears fell. “Be-Better yet, I should have never been _born_.”

“Sanha-”

“I wish I was never born.” His own voice was back down to a whisper. It cracked and it broke and he felt the tears creeping past his eyelashes. A few of them dripped down his cheeks, and he sobbed out, “Minhyuk, I-I-I caused _all_ of this! Why was I born? Why couldn't I have never existed, be-because then none of this would have happened to my parents, o-or to _you_.”

He hadn't realized how close Minhyuk was until he felt a hand brushing at his wet cheeks. Sanha jumped slightly, but calmed when Minhyuk reached over and grabbed his wrist. Minhyuk's thumb ran over his skin, softly and comfortingly. It caught on the wristband, where the red sliver was hardly visible in the room, but Minhyuk held it up anyway. He showcased it for no one, and yet Sanha had never felt more exposed as Minhyuk gazed at the skin.

“Stop-” he weakly protested, but his words were lost when suddenly Minhyuk's lips rested against the bracelet. He kissed the spot, right where the text shone out; illegible at the moment, but both of them knew what it said: _magic user_. “Mi-Minhyuk-”

“I love you, Sanha.”

Sanha blinked; once, twice, thrice. He didn't know what to respond with. He didn't know if he _should_ respond. He didn't know if Minhyuk meant _friendly_ love or _romantic_ love. He didn't know if, either way, Minhyuk _should_ love him. He didn't know how to voice his concerns.

He didn't know what to do.

Minhyuk still held his arm, still displayed his bracelet. “I love Sanha, the big idiot who lives beside me. I love Sanha, the panicked kid who never knows how to react to any situation. I love Sanha, the shifter who has been unfairly branded by people who don't _get_ him.”

“Minhyuk, s-seriously, stop joking.”

That probably wasn't the best way to respond to someone who had just admitted their _love_ for him, but Sanha didn't know what to do.

(Minhyuk was right, he realized – he didn't know how to react to situations.)

“I'm not joking, you moron.” Another kiss to his arm, and then Minhyuk straightened out the gray wristband. He released Sanha's limb and stared up at him. His eyes shone with the little light they had available, and Sanha saw determination and confidence and something else that made Minhyuk's eyes twinkle and brighten. “I love you.”

Sanha's heart skipped a beat.

“So kiss me, Sanha.”

“What?”

“If you love me, you should kiss me.” Minhyuk wasn't even batting an eyelash. “That's what people who love each other do. They kiss.” Sanha saw him swallow thickly, nervously, but his feet remained in place and he tilted his head up ever so slightly.

_Kiss me_.

Sanha didn't know what was even happening at this point. One minute, he was certain he would run away and leave Minhyuk far behind. And the next minute-

The next minute, suddenly, Minhyuk loves him. The next minute, suddenly, Minhyuk wants to kiss him.

The next minute, suddenly, Sanha kisses Minhyuk.

He doesn't lean down too far, and the kiss is quick, rushed, chaste. Sanha feels the softness against his own lips, and Minhyuk draws nearer, but at that point, Sanha is stumbling backwards. The dark room hides how red his face is growing.

It doesn't hide Minhyuk's brilliant grin.

But, even as Minhyuk smiles, even as Sanha still can taste Minhyuk as he wipes at his lips desperately, he realizes he should never have done such a thing.

In doing so, he solidified that he _loved_ Minhyuk. And while that might have been true (while it most certainly was true), he _couldn't_ love Minhyuk. Sanha was a magic user with a cursed bracelet that had outcast him from society.

Minhyuk was _normal_.

Minhyuk deserved a normal life.

“Minhyuk?”

“Hm?”

He was still smiling, and Sanha didn't know _how_ to tell him to _stop_ loving him. Once more, Sanha didn't know what to respond with.

He felt something tug at his heart, though, an intense surge of love and adoration, and he wondered if it would be wrong of him to hold onto Minhyuk.

And then Sanha made up his mind; he would take Minhyuk's love. Selfishly and greedily, he would accept it, and he would allow himself to love Minhyuk back. He might not deserve happiness, and he might not deserve love, but he would take it, because that was all he _wanted_.

If Minhyuk loved him, and if he loved Minhyuk, maybe they could easily get through everything together.

So he took a deep breath.

“Kiss me?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hHAHAHAHA holla for a dolla (which u can send to me [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com))
> 
> we have probably four more chapters??? we'll see? next chapter is a new witch, tho!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whatever happens, we're the same. Whatever happens, I'm going to love you.” Minhyuk was closer to him now, arms wrapping around Sanha's body. He bumped his forehead into Sanha's face. “You can't get rid of me, right? You know that, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last witch! what will happen?

Sanha stared out at the fields, rolling with colors of gold and green as the sun beat down on them, making the plants nearby glisten and brighten considerably. He watched curiously as a tractor plowed through one field, a little further down the hill; he could just make out a figure sitting at the front, a straw hat perched on his head. He seemed old. Beside him was someone smaller, wearing a dress, a scarf wrapped around her head.

If he narrowed his eyes and focused enough, he realized the man was saying something, an arm moving from the wheel to gesture over at the landscape.

And the woman laughed, her elderly body doubling over in her seat.

Sanha watched all of this, a stranger from afar, and he wondered if _he_ could do that one day. He wondered if _he_ could be old and graying, refusing to settle and cease his work, with someone he loved by his side, someone who could make him laugh and someone who would accompany him in whatever it was he chose to do.

Someone, Sanha thought as he turned away from the scenery before him, who cared less about _what_ he was and more about _who_ he was.

His eyes fell on Minhyuk.

The older boy was paying a lady behind the counter of the motel they had picked out. He deposited a few coins in her hands before rifling through the notes that he had stuffed in his pocket, counting them out delicately and muttering something under his breath as he slid them across the table.

He seemed disappointed until the lady leaned in and whispered something to him; then, suddenly, Minhyuk grinned, a little bashful, and nodded his head. This caused the lady to smile, and she glanced over at Sanha.

Her eyes twinkled with knowledge that Sanha wasn't privy to, and so he just looked away hurriedly before he could make a fool of himself.

Minhyuk jogged to join him after a few more seconds, and Sanha noticed a blush overtaking his usual tanned cheeks. “I got us a room,” he announced, pointing at the tiny motel. “Last one left, she said. Also, there's only three rooms in the entire motel, and one of them is hers while her house is getting worked on, so I think I chose a good spot. Quiet. Calm.”

Sanha decided not to mention the blush. He didn't need to know. He figured it would just be awkward if he asked about it, anyway. “I bet it has a nice view,” is what he commented on instead, and he looked back over at the farm in front of him. “If it overlooks this area, it _must_ have a good view.”

Minhyuk was quiet for a second. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It's got a great view once you go in.”

Sanha hummed and stretched his arms out above his head, forgetting that he had a band over his wrist that marked him as a magic user. Once he saw it, though, he brought his arms back down again in a rush, glancing around and praying that no one actually noticed it. His sleeves were still long, and so he pulled them back down to cover the bracelet, even _if_ the wristband was doing a fine enough job of that. As he panicked and fretted over his mark, Minhyuk watched on sadly.

“Sanha-”

“It's fine.”

“We're going to get it off.”

Last witch. Last time.

But their track record with witches so far hadn't been very successful. The first one tried to ruin their lives; the second one had taken his own life. What chance, then, was there that the third witch would actually offer any sort of assistance? If the witch was making the bracelets, why should they get rid of them? There was absolutely _nothing_ in it for them, save for the possibility of being found out by the police and killed.

If Sanha was a witch, and if Sanha had gotten roped into that sort of mess, he didn't trust himself to help out anyone, either. He would want to keep himself alive, first and foremost. He hated the thought, but he understood why the witches were doing this, and why they wouldn't want to help.

Minhyuk must have noticed Sanha's sudden forlorn expression, because he reached over and grabbed Sanha's hand. “Come on.”

Sanha blinked and looked up at him. “What?”

He felt Minhyuk's fingers wrap around his own, warm and comforting and fitting perfectly in place, like a puzzle piece. Sanha hadn't known his hands would ever need this. Sanha hadn't known that his hands had been aching for someone else to fill the gaps and spaces in between his fingers.

“There was a little restaurant down the path,” Minhyuk responded, and he was already pulling Sanha along. “Before we had over to that you-know-what's house, why don't we grab something to eat?”

Sanha didn't want to. He wasn't sure if his stomach could take anything at the moment. It tossed and turned with worry, as his mind pondered whether or not he would be a free, normal person after this, or if he would be forced to go the rest of his life with a clear symbol displaying his status for the rest of the world to see.

But Minhyuk seemed determined to get them some food, so Sanha said nothing. He would go along with whatever Minhyuk wanted. He would let Minhyuk do anything at all. He would follow Minhyuk to death, if that was an option.

As he was pulled down the sidewalk, as Minhyuk tightened the grip he had on Sanha's hand, Sanha was overcome with not only worry, but also love.

It calmed his stomach and soothed his thoughts.

Minhyuk loved him back. Minhyuk cared for him and cherished him, and shouldn't that be enough right now to get him through any type of issues he might face along the way? After all, he wasn't going to be alone. He was certain that Minhyuk would stay with him, regardless of the outcome of the next meeting.

Minhyuk loved him.

He loved Minhyuk.

The worry was gone, and Sanha hurried forward, so he was no longer being dragged, so he could walk beside Minhyuk as an equally determined soul. And when Minhyuk noticed, he grinned widely, lips pulling back to reveal perfect teeth. “You're hungry?”

He still wasn't, but he was ready to enjoy himself, to eat with Minhyuk and pretend all was well with the world. “Yeah!” He nodded his head, then returned the grin. “What type of food is it?”

“I think seafood,” Minhyuk responded. “Which makes sense, I guess, since Buan _is_ on the coast.”

“Can I get clams?”

“Sure!”

“And maybe some fish.”

“Obviously fish.”

“Squid?”

Minhyuk squeezed at his hand lightly. “We're going to get everything,” he said. “I have Myungjun's card, still, and I'm charging our meal to his card.”

Sanha wanted to ask if Myungjun would be upset that they would spend a lot of his money on the meal, but with Minhyuk giggling next to him, he really couldn't be bothered to break the mood. Just like he would go with anything Minhyuk did, in general, he would go with this plan as well. He would gladly spend Myungjun's money and charge it all to his card if it meant he could enjoy his time with Minhyuk before he faced the witch who could either save his life or ruin his life.

He could also pretend, at the same time, as if he was on a date with Minhyuk. They had confessed, after all, but nothing more had come from the kisses. Last night was amazing and wonderful and had sent a rush of exhilaration through Sanha's veins when they had kissed once, and then twice, and then, by the time they both finally fell into a slumber, Sanha had lost count at around sixteen. Each one had been just as amazing and important and special as the last. It had solidified their love for each other, and thus sleep came easily, Minhyuk's arms wrapped around him, Sanha's body curled tightly into the embrace. He almost hadn't wanted to rise from bed, but he realized that the relationship could become even more perfect if he didn't have to worry about his magic being found out by some third party. Minhyuk would stay with him regardless. Sanha wasn't an idiot. He knew Minhyuk's love for him was genuine, and it would surpass all controversies. However, _Sanha_ didn't want that sort of lifestyle for Minhyuk. Sanha didn't want to have a boyfriend who would face hatred and drama and attacks over dating someone who could preform magic. It wasn't _fair_ to knowingly place Minhyuk in that sort of situation.

So, as they ate, Sanha wondered how easy it would be to completely break things off with Minhyuk should the witch refuse to help. He wondered if he actually would be able to, or if he would falter again with the promise of being loved no matter what he was.

He wanted to accept the love; but wouldn't it be too selfish of him to do that? He didn't _want_ to be selfish. He didn't want that at all.

But for now, this could be a date. As he stole a piece of meat from Minhyuk's plate and earned himself a small, playful glare, and as he was lightly kicked for his antics and started trying to move his feet to avoid Minhyuk stomping on his toes, he could definitely pretend this was nothing more than a date between two people who were madly in love and faced no immediate troubles or issues that could define the rest of their lives.

He assumed Minhyuk was doing the same, too. From time to time, when things were silent between the two of them, he could detect the slightest hint of something shining in Minhyuk's eyes; worry, concern, fear, or maybe a combination of the three. Minhyuk would look at Sanha with these emotions displayed, try as the older boy might to hide them, and Sanha would play pretend, once more, that absolutely nothing was wrong.

Minhyuk would fall back into the quiet conversation that Sanha would start up, and then it would be _normal_ for a bit.

Sanha liked normal.

And he liked Buan.

Buan held hopes and promises; Buan held despair and regret. Buan, for all of its simplicity, was complex and interesting and Sanha _longed_ to just be on a regular date. He longed to be a regular person, to be a boyfriend out on a stupid, little date to the countryside, to pick flowers and arrange them in a bracelet that did nothing but act as an embellishment, a bracelet he could remove at the end of the day. It was a bracelet he wanted to have, to save, to cherish forever, instead of the tattooed nonsense around his wrist.

Sanha mentioned as much.

“I used to make those flower bracelets when I was younger,” he blurted out. Minhyuk, who had just been complaining about how full he was while rubbing a thumb over Sanha's skin, glanced up at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Flower bracelets.” Sanha didn't know how else to explain his childhood creations, so he pointed at some dandelions on the side of the road, their bright yellow mixing in with the fields situated behind them. “You pick them, and then you tie and weave the stems together, and it creates a small bracelet.”

Minhyuk still didn't seem sure of what Sanha was saying, so Sanha sighed loudly. “Come _on_ , Minhyuk. You've lived with Myungjun for a while, right? I refuse to believe that a man who owns that many flowers has _never_ made a flower bracelet, so you must have seen at least _one_ before, right?”

“Is...is it like a flower crown?” Minhyuk asked, gesturing at his own head. “Like, flowers that go on your head in a crown? Because Jinwoo magicked one up for him once.”

“He can magic a flower crown into existence?”

Minhyuk snorted. “Sure. All the flowers died, but Myungjun wore it proudly, anyway. Jinwoo tried snatching it off because he said he hated how Myungjun was wearing dead flowers, that it made him seem like a bad boyfriend, but Myungjun claimed it was the best gift ever, and so he didn't care.”

Sanha smiled softly at the story. He wanted to have a relationship similar to that of Myungjun's and Jinwoo's. He wanted to force Minhyuk to wear his flower crowns, and he wanted Minhyuk to love them, even if they had mistakes.

“Here-” Sanha bent down and snatched up a few flowers. “I can teach you how to make a bracelet. No magic required for these!”

Minhyuk seemed amused, and he stared at the dandelions in Sanha's hand. “I didn't peg you as the sort to make flower bracelets.”

“Oh, I haven't done it in _years_.” Sanha plopped down on the side of the road; he hadn't seen any cars pass through, so he figured he would be safe enough for now. “But if you want to grab some, we can both make flower bracelets for each other!”

And so they did. Sanha's was sloppy, and he regarded it with slight disappointment, but it was better than Minhyuk's tangled, ruined mess of flowers jumbled up together.

“Ah,” Minhyuk mumbled, looking his over and comparing it to Sanha's. “I don't want to give you this one anymore. You should keep yours.”

“I didn't make a bracelet for _myself_ ,” Sanha complained, and he held out the one he had completed. “Besides, mine isn't any better than yours is. We'll _both_ have terrible bracelets on our wrists, won't we?”

Minhyuk glanced at Sanha's wrist, at the wristband hidden underneath the sleeve, and at the mark hidden underneath of that. And, when Sanha followed his gaze, he realized what his own words might have implied.

“I meant,” he started again, stammering over his sentence, “that...that we'll have the _flower_ bracelets on our wrists. I'm the only one with...with _this_ one.”

He probably killed the mood. He realized just how often he had been doing that, just how somber he had become in this small journey, and the self-hatred began to claw its way back up again. But Minhyuk leaned forward suddenly, and he quickly slid his awful, hand-made flower bracelet over Sanha's hand. He situated it right where the wristband was, then gave it a soft pat. “There,” he mumbled. “It's beautiful.”

It wasn't. Sanha wanted to protest that it wasn't. Before he could say anything, however, Minhyuk leaned down and planted a kiss right above all of the bracelets, all of the trinkets Sanha now kept on his wrist, the good and the bad. His lips lingered and he added, “Now it's even more perfect. It's all sealed with a kiss.”

“Minhyuk-”

“It's a good luck kiss, if you believe in those. I'm not magic, but I think I have a knack of delivering good luck to people I love.”

Sanha's heart beat fast in his chest. _Love_. Hearing Minhyuk say those words, even after they had already confessed, brought so much joy into Sanha's life. He reached forward himself, then stuffed his own bracelet onto Minhyuk's bare arm.

“We're the same, now,” Minhyuk said.

Once again, Sanha's pessimism tried to take over. _We aren't_ _the same_ , he wanted to say, _because I'm a magic user and you're normal._ But the words wouldn't come. Instead, he held out his arm, placing it next to Minhyuk's. He had more layers on. He had more reason to hide. But Minhyuk stared at the bracelets with such adoration that Sanha wasn't certain he had _reason_ to hide.

“We're the same,” Sanha agreed, and Minhyuk's eyes were torn from the bracelets and flowers to stare up at him. “We're both the same,” Sanha murmured. “Right? I'm...I'm the same as you, aren't I?”

He didn't feel like he was, but Minhyuk was nodding, anyway. “We're both human,” Minhyuk replied. “We both make mistakes and we both have things we'd like to run away from. We both have things we _have_ run away from. But...we're both humans who can love and hate and feel pain and happiness and hunger and excitement.”

There was a soft breeze. The leftover flowers tumbled away, falling back into the grass, and Sanha watched as they left.

“Sanha?”

“Hm?”

“Whatever happens, we're the same. Whatever happens, I'm going to love you.” Minhyuk was closer to him now, arms wrapping around Sanha's body. He bumped his forehead into Sanha's face. “You can't get rid of me, right? You know that, right?”

Sanha supposed he must have looked a little _too_ frightened as he imagined what the future might hold, because Minhyuk suddenly crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. The older boy pressed it against Sanha's nose, licking it once, and Sanha squealed, falling backwards in an attempt to get away. “Stop it!” he screeched. “That's _gross!_ ”

If anything, Sanha's rejection just made Minhyuk try all the harder to lick him, until the two were both laying on the ground, breathing harshly as they suppressed their giggles. Sanha was certain he looked like a wreck; his clothes were probably rumpled and his hair already felt like it was tangled. Fortunately, though, when he held up his arm, his flower bracelet was still intact.

Minhyuk helped him up, promising not to lick him again. Minhyuk instead kissed him, a slow kiss that Sanha would have stretched on for many more minutes had Minhyuk not pulled away with a nudge. “We need to find this witch,” he whispered, “and get that damn bracelet off of you so the only thing left is the one _I_ made.”

Sanha quite liked that idea, and as they continued their trek down the road, Minhyuk reminded him of how easy it all should be. He reminded him that they were both young and Buan was too pretty of a place for a witch to refuse them, and Sanha could just act _cute_ , anyway, so _no one_ could refuse him then. Sanha's optimism tried to return, tried to reassure him that it would all be okay.

The house was old and further down the road and it had a small garden out front. Sanha recognized a few herbs; Minhyuk recognized even more.

“That's lobelia. Jinwoo uses it in spells to help people who have addictions,” he muttered, pointing at a pretty, purple plant. “And...I think that one over there he used once before for something. Sandalwood, I think is what it is? He wouldn't tell me, though, he said it was embarrassing.”

“How is a flower embarrassing?” Sanha whispered as they neared the door.

“Hell if I know. But it's Jinwoo, so I don't even bother asking anymore.”

Minhyuk was the first to knock. He did so with very little hesitation, and Sanha, once more, caught sight of that determined glint.

He liked seeing Minhyuk so confident and ready to face on a witch. He liked that Minhyuk was confident enough for _him_ , as well, confident enough to make Sanha stand there, feet grounded, in refusal to turn back.

“This is it,” Minhyuk whispered, and he squeezed Sanha's hand again. “This one will take it off.”

It took a few seconds for Sanha to respond, and he only did so by nodding. By the time he stopped, the door was opening, and a young woman was peeking out through a crack.

She blinked, and Minhyuk bowed lightly to her. He didn't release Sanha's hand. “Hi. Um, we're sorry to impede on you like this, but we have a request.”

Her gaze was wary, and her eyes darted back and forth between Sanha and Minhyuk. At least, Sanha thought, she wasn't shutting the door just yet.

“Sanha, show her your wrist,” Minhyuk instructed, pulling Sanha forward. “Sanha is a shifter, and the police in Boryeong managed to, uh, put one of those bracelets around his-”

“You want me to take it off?”

Her voice was quiet and nervous, and Sanha swallowed thickly. “If you don't mind?”

She sighed suddenly and then moved to close her door. She didn't get very far before Minhyuk stuck his foot out in front of it. “Wait! It won't be much more difficult than _making_ them, will it? He's a _shifter_ , he's not a high-level magic user, and it had been an accident!”

“I can't-”

“It's ruining his life, and you're refusing to take it off?” Minhyuk shoved at the door, but the witch held onto it. “We'll pay you! You can have a credit card, you can have every single thing I own, just take it-”

“If I take it off, someone will figure out!” she snapped. “You don't know who might be watching, and you don't know what I'll go through if I remove it-”

“You're the one that _made this!_ You're the one making him _deal_ with this-”

“Get away from my house.”

Her warning was clear, voice tight, and in that instant, Sanha knew they would get no further.

That was it, then.

That was it.

Sanha tugged Minhyuk's arm with a slight whine. “Minhyuk-”

“I'll fucking _kill her_ , Sanha, if she doesn't take this bracelet-”

“Minhyuk, please-”

“-off of you right now, I _will_ kill her-”

Sanha tugged harder, pulling Minhyuk away from the witch. The instant Minhyuk's foot left, the witch slammed the door shut, and then it was quiet. Minhyuk breathed deeply once, twice, before spinning around and facing Sanha.

“We need to talk to her.”

“It won't work.”

“We need to explain this whole situation and then she'll understand what we've been through.”

But Sanha shook his head. Minhyuk's determination was evident; the witch's determination had been evident, as well. He couldn't get through to someone who had already made up their mind. He had tried before, and nothing had worked.

That was it.

“Minhyuk?”

He suddenly felt small and scared and alone, and he trembled with fear as he stared down at the flower bracelet on top of his layers.

“Mi-Minhyuk, what now?”

Minhyuk had no answer for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> question from my beginning remains: WHAT WILL HAPPEN???
> 
> next two chapters will probably be angsty. i havent written them yet, and even tho i know what happens, it usually never comes out with the exact emotions i need. whatever, tho, it'll be an ATTEMPT to be angsty. for now, this will have to do.
> 
> hmu with some thoughts [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com)!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sanha glanced down, he realized that his own hand was covered in that same blood. It trailed down his arm, a grisly sight for what he thought would be a rather simple process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **OKAY so quick warning: this chapter has instances of self-harm and one very quick mention of suicide.** it's going to be the heaviest chapter of this fic, but i just wanted you guys to be aware of it. if you don't feel comfortable reading, just hit me up and i'll give you the quick run-down of what took place.
> 
> PLEASE do not force yourself to read if the subject matter makes you uncomfortable.

Minhyuk still had no answer.

It was late at night. The stars were out, shining brightly, twinkling and sparkling, and Sanha decided he hated them for acting as if nothing was wrong. He hated the innkeeper, as well, the sweet, old woman who asked him if he was alright and used her scissors at her front desk to cut a thread hanging from the wristband that hid the mark of Sanha's skin, because she, too, didn't seem to know that something was wrong. He hated how cozy his bed was as he curled up into it almost instantly after arriving back at the small motel, and he hated the crickets chirping outside, oblivious to his complete and utter despair.

“What now?” he had croaked out after a bit, after sobbing into Minhyuk's shoulder as the older boy held him close. “Mi-Minhyuk, _what now?_ ”

Minhyuk still had no answer.

He seemed conflicted. He looked hateful, just as Sanha felt concerning everything in the world, but he also looked sad and sympathetic and unsure. His eyes darted around the room, as if the answers to their questions would be found in one of the material objects nearby, as if a friendly witch was hiding behind the chair in the corner or beneath the small, wooden desk that held the television set.

But nothing would come to their aid. Nothing would help. Sanha recognized that fact, as much as it hurt to admit; Minhyuk wasn't quite ready to give up, though.

“Jinwoo might do something,” he mumbled.

“He couldn't before. He won't be able to now.”

“You don't know that! Sometimes...sometimes Jinwoo has more power than Myungjun and I thought he had originally. Sometimes he can perform certain spells that he had claimed were out of his energy level. He could-”

“He said he couldn't.”

Minhyuk ran his fingers through Sanha's hair, desperately trying to hold onto the last bit of hope that he had given himself. “Sanha, we can _try_. I can call him – I'll call him and ask, okay?”

Sanha relented, removing himself from Minhyuk's grip. The phone call was short and didn't yield any answers at all. Sanha could only assume that Jinwoo said no, that Jinwoo confirmed he wasn't capable of reversing spells from higher-level witches. Minhyuk cursed, terrible words that Sanha had only heard before in movies, and Jinwoo raised his voice for a few seconds before Minhyuk hung up on him, breathing harshly and gripping at his cell phone.

Sanha said nothing. What was there to be said? They had exhausted all of their available options, and now they were left in the middle of the countryside of Buan, surrounded by beautiful scenery, surrounded by awful reality.

But Minhyuk held him anyway. Minhyuk held him close, fingers gripping into his clothes and face buried into his neck. “Sanha?”

“What?”

“Everything will be fine with that...that bracelet, okay?”

Sanha didn't believe him. His words didn't sound believable, and he faltered while saying them, anyway, as if _he_ didn't believe himself.

“I'll love you, regardless.”

Sanha knew he would, and his heart clenched in his chest. It made it difficult, then, to continue to live a life that would be full of ridicule and hate, with the knowledge that Minhyuk would be alongside him, suffering the same thing, simply for being acquainted and friendly with a _dangerous_ magic user. Sanha would have to watch Minhyuk's life fall apart, as his father's life already had. Perhaps someone would ruin the bakery that Minhyuk loved and cared for so much. Perhaps someone would vandalize the apartment complex they lived in. It wasn't unheard of for buildings that housed magic users to burn down, and it wasn't unheard of for the police to refuse to look into the crime. Perhaps they would beat him or attack him for loving Sanha.

And it wasn't just Minhyuk, though he was the most important to Sanha. It was Myungjun and Jinwoo, as well. It was Dongmin and Bin. All of them had offered him help, and he had no doubt all of them would continue to offer him help. Dongmin and Bin could lose their jobs. Myungjun, too, might not be able to perform his magic for people anymore if he was under careful scrutiny from the public.

Worst of all, Jinwoo could be discovered. People might realize his own magical power, and if word spread that he was a witch, he could easily be killed by the police or the government.

Sanha didn't want to be responsible for Jinwoo's death. He didn't think he could ever face anyone again if he was the sole reason that the government finally found out that a witch lived with Myungjun and Minhyuk. He wouldn't be able to face _himself_ , either.

Going back with the bracelet still on his wrist would condemn all of those he knew and loved.

As if sensing the internal struggle Sanha was faced with, Minhyuk pulled back and stared at the younger boy. His eyes mapped out all of his features, all of his flaws, and then he murmured, “Sanha, I love you. Everyone will love you. Everyone will hide it and support you and no one will ever have to know that you're a magic user.”

Sanha sniffed and shook his head, glancing down at his lap. “The police chief knows,” he responded. “Minhyuk, the _chief_ knows. He's already fired my dad, and I'm sure that he's told everyone else about me.”

“Bin and Dongmin won't let that happen-”

“If they stick up for me, they'll be fired, too!” Sanha exclaimed. “Neither of them will have a job, and then what? Then what will they do? A-And the chief _hates_ magic users, so he might just keep making life miserable for my family. And what if he finds out about Myungjun's secret? What if he raids your bakery and learns that Myungjun is a necromancer? He'll stick the bracelet on Myungjun! And – oh, _god_ , what about Jinwoo? If Myungjun gets attacked, Jinwoo will try to stop it, and then _his_ secret will come out and they'll kill him!” Sanha hadn't realized he was sobbing until Minhyuk brought his hands up to wipe away tears, to shush him and comfort him. “Mi-Minhyuk, everyone's life will be _ruined_ i-if I go back home with this bracelet on my wrist! No one will help us, a-and I don't know what to _do_ anymore!”

And, still, Minhyuk had no answer. He simply bit his lip and stared sadly at Sanha, running his fingers through orange, curly locks and shaking his head. “I...I won't let any of that happen.”

“What can _you_ do?” Sanha asked. He didn't mean to take on an accusing tone, but it came out anyway, defensive and angry. “If someone fi-finds out, how will you stop them from hurting everyone I love? How will you stop them from hurting _you?_ ”

Minhyuk pulled Sanha into his embrace suddenly, kissing his neck gently and allowing his lips to rest there, a burning mark in Sanha's skin. Not a word was said. Sanha cried, his wails the only sound available in the otherwise silent room, and Minhyuk held him. He would kiss Sanha every so often, on his cheeks or his temple, and his hands would rub up and down Sanha's back, sometimes in circles, but otherwise, nothing was said. Nothing was done.

They laid down for the night. Minhyuk stared at Sanha, something unreadable in his soft gaze. Their hands were clasped together. Sanha's palm felt sweaty, and he wondered if Minhyuk had noticed just yet.

There was another kiss. Minhyuk's lips captured Sanha's perfectly, chaste and quiet. Sanha succumbed readily, giving into Minhyuk's love without a second of hesitation. He had already decided that even if he was unselfish in every other aspect of his life, even if he tried to save everyone else from being near him, he would accept what Minhyuk had to offer. He would greedily take it all up-

And then what?

He couldn't watch Minhyuk suffer just from being with him. He couldn't _bear_ the thought of people abusing the man he loved, of people ostracizing him, of people ruining his life.

It was all because of the damn bracelet.

If he could get it off, Sanha decided, all by himself, then Minhyuk would live a relatively normal, happy life, wouldn't he? Even if a witch couldn't help, surely there _must_ be a way to rid himself of the bright and ugly label.

He waited until Minhyuk was asleep before he pushed himself away from his boyfriend's clingy limbs. He sat up in bed and shoved his hand near the window, under the soft glow of the moonlight. Carefully, slowly, Sanha peeled his wristband back, moved the flower bracelet, and examined his mark.

It definitely looked like a tattoo. He ran his fingers over it, once while staring and once with his eyes closed. He didn't feel any sort of line to indicate where the mark began and where it ended. All he felt was skin.

He picked at it. He dug his fingernails into the area, as harshly as he could, and held back his grunts of pain. He pinched and prodded and wondered if he dug down deep enough, maybe he could just cut off the label.

It worked as a tattoo, which meant it was part of his skin – so he assumed, anyway. And if that was the case, then it should be a simple matter (albeit painful) of chopping away the affected portions. He would use bandages to hide the wound he would create.

Did skin grow back? Sanha stood from his bed with that question in mind. And, if it did, would it grow back as a red label, or would his normal, regular skin return?

He felt nervous as he crept away from Minhyuk's sleeping figure and as he exited the room.

Even if it didn't work, even if cutting at his skin didn't help, at least he had _tried_. And, if he marred the skin enough, perhaps the scars would cover it. Perhaps he could completely ruin the area around his wrist so the bracelet was no longer visible.

His heart hammered as he went downstairs. The floorboards creaked, a testament to the age of the small, cute inn, but no one stirred from their slumber. He wondered what time it was; he hadn't checked before he made his decision to cut off his own skin, and it seemed like such useless information at this point, but his mind prodded him with only that question:

_What time is it?_

It was a deterrent, a thought that passed his mind so he wouldn't have to focus on the larger issue at hand. If he grasped onto the _time_ , the late night and the starry sky, perhaps he wouldn't panic too much about what he was about to do to himself.

He remembered where the sweet hotel owner had put her scissors. They were resting on the front desk, near some papers that she apparently kept out at night (naive trust, perhaps, or thoughtless behavior). Sanha bypassed those documents, however. He grasped onto the scissors and examined them in the darkness of the room. The soft light of the flickering motel sign glinted off of the metal, reminding Sanha of just how _sharp_ it was, of just how painful it would be.

_Nope,_ he thought, _Just imagine the stars and the moon. It's pretty tonight. It's almost as pretty as Minhyuk. Not quite. But almost_.

He wondered how Minhyuk would react. His eyebrows furrowed as he stepped into the nearby bathroom and closed the door. The light he turned on was sudden and bright, but he only needed mere seconds to adjust before he sat himself down on the toilet seat and stared back down again at his scissors.

Minhyuk would be happiest if Sanha had the bracelet off of him, wouldn't he? That was what he had wanted all along. He probably wouldn't be too upset, then, at the mutilation of Sanha's arm, as long as they could wrap it and laugh off the scars. He would be more upset if they returned home and Sanha still had on that horrible label.

Sanha bit down on his lip and opened the scissors. He curled his fingers around one of the blades, and positioned the other one right above the red mark.

Quite honestly, he wasn't certain how to go about _doing_ this. He didn't know how to carve off his own skin. He never hunted before, never bothered watching people hunt or learning how it was done.

“Like fishing, then?” he whispered to himself, his voice louder than he had hoped it would be. He cleared his throat once. His hands shook.

“Like filleting a fish,” he confirmed in an attempt to assure himself. He had gone fishing with his dad before, usually once a year, and he was taught how to properly prepare a fish for cooking. Scaling it would be a similar process to removing his own skin from his wrist, wouldn't it?

Maybe it was a bad idea. His grip on the scissors faltered, and he swallowed thickly Maybe slicing his own skin was far different than filleting a fish. Maybe he should wait; maybe he should ask Minhyuk to do it for him.

But the whole _reason_ he needed to go through with the process was so Minhyuk would never have to worry over him again. If he did this, he might have to receive medical attention, but then his label would be gone, and he could live a normal life.

Sanha took a deep breath, shuddering in anticipation.

“One incision here, then.” Whispering to himself helped clear his mind, and without further hesitation, he cut across his skin.

The pain was instant, and he gasped out as the blade of the scissors traveled down deeply into his skin, blood welling up and dripping out of his wound. He wanted to stop, to curl up and cry, to hold it tightly in an effort to make it stop _hurting_ , but determination to fix the mess he had caused fueled him forward. He continued, dragging the sharp metal through his skin, circling from the top of his wrist to the bottom-

And then he stopped.

His veins were evident, close to where he needed to cut. If he went too deep, if he made one wrong move, he could pierce one.

That would cause death, wouldn't it? If he cut into a vein, he could just bleed out, couldn't he?

Sanha wanted to stop again. He wanted to call it quits, to go back upstairs and just make _pretend_ he was normal. But when he reached to pull his wristband back down, he realized that covering up his marking would only be a temporary measure. People already knew of his status as a magic user; a wristband wouldn't do much but bring about more attention as he grew into adulthood.

So continuing, really, was the only option.

He steeled himself, giving a quick prayer of his well-being, and readied to dig the scissors back into his wrist, but before he could do anything, the door burst open.

Sanha's gaze snapped up in shock, and he was met with the worried stare of the boy he loved with his entire being.

“Minhyuk-”

“What the _fuck-_ ”

“Minhyuk, this isn't-”

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Sanha?” Minhyuk rushed forward, grabbing the scissors from Sanha's hands and cradling them close to him. The blood dripped from the metal, dotting the bathroom floor. When Sanha glanced down, he realized that his own hand was covered in that same blood. It trailed down his arm, a grisly sight for what he thought would be a rather simple process.

His breath hitched.

“I wanted to-to get it off,” he cried. The tears began to flow then, faster than the blood was moving, and Sanha used his free hand to grasp at the mutilated wound. “Nothing else wi-will _work!_ What am I supposed to do, Minhyuk? I can't-I can't live like this!”

“You thought slicing off your own goddamn hand would help?” Minhyuk snapped, and a rage boiled in his expression. “You thought-”

“I wasn't going to cut off my hand!” Sanha felt sick to his stomach, and he felt the pain course through him. “I was g-going to just cut the label off, li-like a fish – like when you cut off a fish's scales! I can still do it, so I ne-never have to live like this again, Minhyuk, _please-_ ”

He stood and reached for the scissors, but Minhyuk stepped back. His hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled and as he cradled the crimson-soaked utensil, Sanha realized just how much this all was affecting _him_.

Not for the first time, guilt replaced Sanha's pain, and he sobbed, “Just give them back to me, Minhyuk! I-If it's easier, I'll cut off my hand! I'll get rid of this-this damn bracelet, I can't _live_ like this anymore, M-Minhyuk! I feel like a monster! I _am_ a monster! If I go back home, if I return w-with _this_ , I'll ruin everyone's life! E-Everyone will hate me! I need it off!”

His sobs were loud, echoing in the empty space between him and Minhyuk, and he didn't _care_ if he looked like an overgrown child, if he was having a meltdown in the middle of a public motel restroom. He was hurt and he was scared, and Minhyuk was too deep in this mess. Sanha hated himself for involving other people.

“Be-Better yet, I can just cut into my wrist, I can kill myse-”

“Shut the fuck up, Sanha.”

Minhyuk's jaw was tight, and his grip on the scissors was strong. Sanha obeyed, if only because he was scared of his own words.

Talking about how he shouldn't have been born was one thing. Threatening to kill himself, right then and there, with Minhyuk as his witness, was a step too far, and even Sanha understood that.

“I'll fix this,” Minhyuk growled. “I'll fucking fix all of this.”

“What-”

He stepped out from the bathroom. Sanha didn't get a chance to react before the door closed suddenly on him.

“Minhyuk?”

He heard the doorknob move, Minhyuk doing _something_ to it, but when he reached out and wiggled it on his own end, he realized what was going on.

“Minhyuk!”

His voice was louder now, panic taking place of the pain and the guilt, and he tugged and pulled as hard as he could in an effort to escape.

Furniture was being moved around, and soon enough, he could no longer turn the doorknob. Minhyuk had effectively locked him inside.

Sanha banged his fists against the flimsy wood. He wished he worked out. If he was as strong as Minhyuk, or as Jinwoo, he could easily break the door down. But with his long, skinny arms, all he could do was cry and fuss and hit the door, hurting himself in the process.

“Minhyuk!” he screeched.

“The lady who owns this place will let you out tomorrow morning.” Minhyuk's voice sounded further away, and Sanha could hear the regret and concern laced in his words. “And then you're going to go home. Okay, Sanha? You'll leave. Pack everything up and just go back home. There's a train that can take you back.”

“Minhyuk, what are you doing?!”

“Myungjun won't blame you. Talk to Jinwoo first. Tell him I'm sorry.”

“Minhyuk, let me out!”

It was quiet for a second, and Minhyuk sighed. “Sanha? I love you.”

“Minhyuk-”

“And I'm sorry to you, most of all. I'm sorry I couldn't do shit. I'm sorry everything ended up like this, and I'm sorry revenge is the only thing that I have left to give you.”

Sanha's heart felt like it stopped beating. He weakly hit the door again, sobbing out, “Wh-What are you _doing_ , Minhyuk? Please, don't, just – let's go together somewhere, let's stay together-”

“You'll be fine.” Minhyuk wasn't as close by anymore. Sanha's chest felt tight. “You'll be happy without me.”

He heard footsteps drift off. The front door opened, the small bell ringing lightly.

Then Sanha was alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I hope no one forced themselves through it. If anyone needs to talk to me, my inbox is always open! 
> 
> We'll probably have at least two more chapters of this. I keep lengthening it because my writing is very much rambling instead of an actual story. Sorry.
> 
> hmu [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com)!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His magic had caused all of this. His shifting abilities had forced him to reach this pathetic state, and it had forced Minhyuk to willingly walk to his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much to say about this chapter except it feels boring. im sorry in advance if it's boring.

Sanha had a theory that Minhyuk had drugged everyone with sleeping pills. It was the only reason no one was waking up to his screams and cries just yet, and why no one seemed to realized that he was trying to break down the bathroom door. He rammed his shoulder into it, over and over again, until he was bruised and completely out of breath. He punched it and kicked it, but to no avail. Minhyuk had really made certain Sanha would be unable to escape, to stop him from doing whatever it was he had his mind set to do.

But, really, what _was_ it? He mentioned revenge. He left with nothing but a pair of scissors. And he told Sanha-

_Myungjun won't blame you._

_Tell Jinwoo I'm sorry._

_You'll be happy without me._

_I'm sorry revenge is the only thing I have left to give you_.

Sanha felt his heart race in panic as he stared at the impassable door in front of him. He realized now what it was that Minhyuk was going to do.

He had assumed it would be, perhaps, revenge against the police chief back in Boryeong. After all, the police chief was the entire reason that Sanha was stuck with the bracelet on his wrist. However, his other ominous words gave way to the simple truth – it wasn't the chief; it was the witch.

Minhyuk was going to face up against a witch. He had the bloody scissors and pure determination, and he was going to try and attack a _witch_.

Sanha whined as he hit the door one more time, his shoulder crying out in pain. “Please!” he yelled. “Please, _please_ let me out! I need to stop him, he's going to _die!_ ”

He waited; he heard nothing but the usual sounds of the night, the silence deafening to his ears. He broke the quiet with a sob, his breath catching in his throat as he finally slid down to his knees.

He was _useless_. He was helpless and hopeless. If he had anyone else with him on this journey, they would have just given up and gone home. If he had Myunjun or Jinwoo, they would have been responsible. Even Dongmin and Bin would probably understand that taking revenge on a witch was futile, and would only result in death.

Sanha clenched his fists by his side and took a long, deep, shuddering breath.

Minhyuk was going to die.

If Minhyuk went after a witch, armed with those scissors, he wasn't going to come out alive. Even Jinwoo, a low-level witch, could evade that and cause serious damage to Minhyuk's being. _This_ witch, though, a high-level witch working for the government and living in the middle of nowhere-

Minhyuk was running to his own death.

Sanha wailed out, tearing at his hair in anguish. What good was _he?_ All he could do was sit there, watching the blood dry around his wrist, waiting for the moment he could be set free and find that he was completely alone.

Minhyuk was about to be murdered.

Sanha glanced around the small bathroom wildly. He had only tried hitting at the door himself; if it was possible, he might be able to find something to wedge it open. He might be able to escape the confines of this room and catch Minhyuk in time. He had longer legs. It was possible Minhyuk wasn't running, either. It was possible that Minhyuk was satisfied with the barrier he had created between himself and Sanha, and he might have been taking his time on the way to the witch's house.

How long had it been since he left? Ten minutes? Sanha wasn't sure. He stood, shakily, and wrung his hands out in front of him.

There was a toilet, a shower, and a sink.

Nothing that he could use, then.

He felt the tears well up in his eyes again and he bit down on his balled-up first, whimpering muffled by his skin.

Minhyuk _couldn't_ die on him! Not after they had fallen in love, not after Sanha _confessed_ , not after all those kisses and hugs and touches.

Sanha wasn't willing to let him go.

He felt the air conditioning kick in, a little harsh when he wore naught but a t-shirt and sleeping shorts, and he curled his arms around himself, shivering lightly.

Everything had been ruined. If he had rejected Minhyuk's involvement in the first place, it would be _fine_. Sanha might have died, but it wouldn't have been _Minhyuk_. He wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that his issues had killed the boy he loved. He wouldn't have to return home and tell Myungjun what had happened. He wouldn't have to deal with the pain and loneliness that an existence _without_ Minhyuk would offer him.

His eyes stung from his tears, and he wiped at them angrily. The cold bit through his clothes, creating goosebumps all along his skin, and in order to direct his frustration and panic at _something_ , he turned his gaze up at the air vent.

He wanted to yell at it. He could curse, too, as loudly as he wanted, because it wasn't as if anyone would ever hear him.

Sanha was ready to do just that, but then he stopped and blinked up at the vent.

“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself. He rushed over to the sink, pulling himself up to be closer to the air vent.

If any of the movies and crime dramas he loved were accurate, he could easily just crawl through a vent. It had to come out _somewhere_ , didn't it? It had to connect to other vents, most likely, and he could easily drop down from those and escape the bathroom. Even if it was further away then he wanted, or even if he took several wrong turns and wasted a bunch of time crawling around, anything was better than sitting in the bathroom and just waiting for Minhyuk to die.

He acted quickly, pushing on the air vent with shaky arms. It lifted after a few tries, and he maneuvered the covering over a bit, pushing it to the side so he could better access the small opening.

The only issue was, he couldn't actually pull himself up.

He had never been very strong. He didn't exercise often, and his arms were long and skinny, not prime material for doing any sort of strenuous pull-ups. Coupled with that was the fact that he didn't think he could even fit completely inside of the vent. From the brief glimpses he got of it, it was small and tight, a little bit cramped on the interior. Could he really start pulling himself through the vent? What if he got stuck inside? What if he fell through the ceiling?

A new sense of despair washed over him. He was so close to getting free from the bathroom, and yet he _couldn't_. The exit was right above him, but various issues had arisen and, once again, he was stuck.

“Damn it!” he screeched, hitting the ceiling with his fist. The panic was coming back, and in full force. He cried loudly, grasping onto the opening of the vent and attempting to get inside. He fell once, elbows hitting the tiled floor, and even as painful as it was, he still forced himself back up again.

The wristband snagged and dropped lower on his arm, and his eyes were drawn to the bracelet.

_Magic user_.

His magic had caused all of this. His shifting abilities had forced him to reach this pathetic state, and it had forced Minhyuk to willingly walk to his death.

Sanha wished he never had the power to change his shape, and he yelled out as much, his voice shrill and trembling.

“I hate shifting!” he screamed. “I wish _I_ was dead! I wish I traded spots w-with _Minhyuk!_ Why does _he_ have to die, an-and I have to remain a disgusting shifter?!”

It was a terrible joke that the heavens above were playing on him. He had wished for death throughout his short journey; Minhyuk snatched that away from him.

Sanha rubbed at his nose, clearing away the snot, and glanced up at the ceiling again.

If he was smaller, he might be able to fit.

If he was smaller-

His eyes widened as he realized the implication of his thoughts. He _could_ be smaller. He didn't have to go through the vents as a tall teenager. He could _shift_. That was the entire reason he had a bracelet around his wrist, wasn't it? And even if he hated doing so, he realized he would shift into whatever was necessary in order to stop Minhyuk.

He closed his eyes and imagined the shape he needed to take. His powers took over, rushing about him quickly, and soon enough, he was no longer a boy. He opened his eyes and he was fluttering about, small and light and delicate, just a simple ladybug staring at the large room and appliances around him.

It made him sick sometimes to shift into something so drastically, especially when he was a tiny creature. He usually gave himself a minute or two to gather his bearings and ensure his energy wouldn't run out, but he didn't have _time_. He didn't know just how fast Minhyuk was trying to get to the witch, and so without taking time to pause and rest, he flew.

It wasn't as effective as running was. A tiny ladybug could only fly so quickly. But it was the first thing he had thought of, the first thing he decided would fit through smaller spaces, and he wasn't willing to waste more energy on changing himself.

So he flew through the air shaft instead, desperately searching for a way out, for some sort of tiny opening that _wasn't_ in the bathroom.

He found one, and he was able to fly down between the cracks, giving a mental cheer when he realized he was in the main lobby area. He had made it _outside_ of the bathroom; he could see Minhyuk's barricade, furniture pushed up against the door and underneath the doorknob to stop anyone from escaping, but Sanha wasn't going to focus on that.

Minhyuk was down the road. Minhyuk was going to get himself killed, and Sanha was going to stop it with whatever means he had.

Once he was in a safe enough location, away from anything that could possibly harm him, he shifted back. It took a few seconds to breathe properly again, but he didn't have the _time_ to wait on that. He had to run; he had to catch up with Minhyuk.

And that's exactly what he did.

His legs were already begging him to stop, after not even a few minutes. Normally he was far more fit, but the shifting took up more of his energy than he thought it would. He needed to train better for that; he needed to ask Myungjun for help. He wished he had thought of doing so before starting out on his task, because it would make _this_ situation far easier on his body.

After three minutes, he was away from the street lamps on the side of the road, in total darkness. His path was lit by the moon and the stars, and he was growing increasingly more frightened. He didn't have a memory of the house ingrained onto his brain. He didn't know exactly when to turn, and he couldn't even _see_ that far in front of him. He slowed, his breath coming out in pants, and decided he would do _anything_ – he would go through all amounts of pain – just to stop Minhyuk.

He needed to shift again.

_Good eyesight and fast. Good eyesight and fast. Good eyesight and fast._

Those thoughts were repeated like a mantra in Sanha's mind, and he finally decided; nothing too large, and yet nothing too _slow_. A good mixture of everything he needed to find Minhyuk.

He shifted into a cat.

As his second time shifting, after having wasted so much of his energy, he really _did_ have to stop. Even as a cat, he was panting, and his feet felt sore and uncomfortable. Where his cut had been as a human, there was now an open wound on his paw, and he regarded it curiously before deciding it wasn't worth the inspection at this point.

He needed to run, as painful as it would be.

He hurried along the dirt road, each breath feeling like his last. His lungs suffered from the constant movement, from the lack of rest he was giving himself after shifting, but Sanha was too scared to stop. If he stopped, Minhyuk might succeed in his revenge plan – if he hadn't already.

Images filtered through Sanha's mind, images of Minhyuk already dead, images of Sanha arriving too late to the scene to stop anything from happening. This propelled him further, made him hurry all the more.

_Please, please, please wait,_ he thought, wondering if it was possible for a guardian angel to deliver his message to Minhyuk. _Please, please, please don't do this_.

Things were beginning to seem familiar, even with his odd night vision that he had been granted. He recognized a tree. He recognized a tractor. He especially recognized an herbal garden near the road. Minhyuk had pointed out those plants just earlier, commenting on how Jinwoo would use them.

The house was right in Sanha's view. So was Minhyuk.

He was already confronting the witch, it seemed. The door to the house was open and he was shouting something at her, brandishing his scissors – his only weapon – in a threatening position. She didn't seem intimidated, however; from what Sanha _could_ see of her face, she was angry. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she snapped something back to Minhyuk.

Sanha made it, then. He made it in time to stop everything from going horribly, dreadfully wrong. He scurried forward, but before he could get between the two of them, his powers gave out. Shifting could only last for so long – shifting into multiple creatures while he was already exhausted enough couldn't last at all. He turned human, awkwardly stumbling over himself and falling down to the ground, still located in the driveway.

He urged his body to move, to get up, to figure something out, but his limbs felt like mush. Whenever he tried to pick himself up, his arms, shaking far too much, gave out on him and he would fall right back into the ground.

Minhyuk's back was to him, and the witch hadn't seemed to notice his sudden appearance. He would have cursed again if he could stop his desperate gasps for air long enough to actually _speak._ He felt faint, his body trying to give into the sweet calls of unconsciousness, but he _couldn't_. He refused to allow himself to fall asleep when Minhyuk was going to die.

“Minhyuk-” he finally tried, voice hoarse and quiet. It wasn't heard over Minhyuk's yelling. “Minhyuk!” Still nothing but a whisper. His hands clenched into fists, fingernails scoring through the dirt, as he cursed his body and his powers and himself.

The witch backed up once. She tried to shut the door, and Minhyuk stopped her, grasping at the entryway with one hand, raising the scissors with the other.

And the witch put _her_ hands up, lips uttering out a spell. Sanha didn't know enough about witches to know what it would be, but he could see the resentment in her stare. He was reminded of the first witch they had met, of the great wound on Minhyuk's chest, and a rush of fear held onto him. He found, too, that the fear gave him enough energy to raise his head up from the ground and cry out, “Stop it!”

The witch noticed him finally, and the spell died on her lips. Minhyuk spun around, wide eyes locating where Sanha was, where he had fallen back down in exhaustion.

“Sanha?” The words were a question on his lips, a shaky inquiry that he needn't say more to convey – _Sanha, how did you get here? Sanha, what are you doing here? Sanha, are you okay? Sanha, why can't we save you?_

He rushed forward when Sanha didn't respond. The younger boy's vision was dizzying; he was certain he was seeing double Minhyuks at this point. He heard the front door to the house slam shut, and he could only hope and pray that the witch wouldn't continue to go after Minhyuk, that she would stay in _her_ spot and that Minhyuk would be safe.

In the end, that was all he was concerned with. He could live with the bracelet and the ostracizing and the reclusive life he might be forced to take up. He couldn't deal with Minhyuk's death.

“Sanha!” Minhyuk knelt down to him, the scissors tossed aside, forgotten. “Sanha, are you okay?”

Sanha felt warm hands grab onto his shoulder and turn him over, so he was now on his back rather than his stomach. Minhyuk hovered over him, concern shining in his gaze, so bright even in the darkness, and Sanha felt like crying.

“Why?” he asked. “Why di-did you do that?”

Minhyuk didn't answer him.

“Why did you le-leave me? Y-You said...we'd do it all together. You _said_...” Sanha closed his eyes. His body was done supporting his overuse of magic. It was shutting down, deciding that only rest could restore the energy he had lost. Sanha was willing to agree with it for now. Minhyuk was safe. That was all that mattered.

“I'm sorry,” Minhyuk whispered. Sanha almost didn't catch it. “I needed to, though. I couldn't...I couldn't do anything. I had to watch you hurt yourself, I had to listen to how much you wanted to die, an-and...I can't do a fucking thing!”

Sanha felt tears hit his cheeks. He wished he could brush them off of Minhyuk's face, kiss him until he was all better.

“I hate this, Sanha!” Minhyuk sobbed. “I'm so goddamn _useless!_ I hate a-all of this!”

Sanha did, too. Sanha felt the same way. He curled in on himself, hands reaching out to hold onto Minhyuk.

“Hyuk?” he breathed out. “Love me. Even if you hate it all, love me.”

There was no response at first, but then Minhyuk bent over and embraced him tightly, crying into his shoulder and gripping onto his shirt.

There was no vocalized acceptance of Sanha's words. There was no official confirmation that Minhyuk would follow through. Yet, laying there, allowing sleep to finally take him over, Sanha believed Minhyuk's touch; his hands around Sanha's back and his lips on Sanha's neck told him everything.

They would do it all together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so now what???
> 
> we got two chapters left, fam. TWO CHAPTERS. tho tbh i might add one more somehow, some form of epilogue, just bc i dont want to end with 19 chapters. i'd rather end with 20. this is who i am as a person. but we'll see about that!!!
> 
> hmu with dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com)!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did magic users go to heaven? Could they live in peace alongside normal people in death? Sanha liked to think so. He didn't know if heaven would be worth it should he be separated from Minhyuk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 18 - the conclusion to the hunting of witches!

Sanha knew now that there was no way he could stay by Minhyuk's side.

He had seen Minhyuk's capabilities as a person. He admired the loyalty – the love – that Minhyuk had displayed. He _liked_ the knowledge that Minhyuk was willing to protect him, regardless of the consequences.

He didn't like the _consequences_.

Minhyuk had been so ready to _die_ for him. Minhyuk had been prepared to give up everything just for _him_. It left a sinking feeling in Sanha's gut, and as he stared at his boyfriend's sleeping figure, he couldn't help the shame that washed over him.

It had been a struggle to return back to the hotel. Minhyuk had waited with Sanha, holding him close until his energy levels had risen, and until he was well enough to stand up on his own. And then, still grasping onto Sanha, he had whispered, “All I can do is try to convince her, Sanha. All I can-”

“No.”

Sanha's answer was instant, and he leaned on the smaller boy, absolutely exhausted and worn.

“No, Minhyuk, please, let's-”

“Sanha, I won't try to fight her again. I'll talk to her. We can try to really convince her that the best thing to do is to take off your bracelet.”

“Why is that the best thing?” Sanha asked, frustrated. “She won't do it if it's not the best thing for _her_. It's only the best thing for me, and she _won't_ go for that. She hasn't, and she _won't_.”

Minhyuk was quiet for a second, and Sanha took the opportunity to begin walking. He dragged Minhyuk alongside him, and his boyfriend began to protest.

“Sanha, this is our last chance! If we can't get _this_ witch to help, there aren't any others? Do you want to live the rest of your life with that _thing_ around your wrist?”

Sanha stopped and he spun around. Perhaps it was too violent of a spin, or perhaps the lack of sleep and depleted energy levels had taken their toll on him, for he instantly felt his stomach turn. Before he could say anything, he moved away from Minhyuk and vomited.

Minhyuk was quick, though, to kneel by his side, to push Sanha down to his knees and rub at his back. Through the sick, Sanha could see the worry evident in his gaze. It made him all the more nauseous.

“Sanha...”

“You think I'm okay with this?” Sanha asked, bitterly, coughing and gagging. He wrapped his arms around himself. “Y-You think I _want_ to live with this bracelet around my arm, Minhyuk? D-Do you honestly think I'm okay with thi-is?” He was hiccuping, choking on his words, stammering out whatever was on his mind. “I _want_ to-to convince her, but we _can't_ , Minhyuk! We tried, an-and she didn't want to, and you almost _died!_ ” He glanced up at his boyfriend, definitely not missing the pure look of guilt shining in his eyes. “You said you loved me, a-and then you wanted to get yourself killed! You wanted to leave me a-all alone!”

“I didn't think,” Minhyuk whispered, a quiet defense. Sanha believed him, too It had been Minhyuk acting out, not once considering what the future consequences would entail. It wasn't a selfish act, though, yet it wasn't one done purely out of love.

It was exhaustion. It was fear.

It was hate.

And Sanha, too, hated everything that had been going on. He hated all of the witches that allowed the bracelets to be made, that refused to take anything off of him. He hated the police chief, and the people who looked at him in fear.

He hated the situation.

He hated himself.

Minhyuk ran his fingers through Sanha's hair, separating the sweaty bangs from sticking to his forehead. “Why don't we go back to the hotel?” he asked quietly. “Let's get that arm wrapped up, and...and then we can figure out what to do next.”

Minhyuk had been gentle from then on. He hadn't mentioned the witch. In fact, his only suggestion as he applied ointment on Sanha's wound was, “We can go home.”

Sanha was trying to keep his crying to a minimum, but Minhyuk's sudden optimism was ruining that. “Don't say-”

“We've been away for a while,” the older boy pointed out. He didn't meet Sanha's gaze. “Jinwoo called me at least three times after we met that other witch. I didn't answer him. He sent some text messages, too. He wants us back. Myungjun is panicking and...and I'm sure you want to go back home, as well, Sanha.”

The only way Sanha had ever imagined returning back to his home was with his bracelet gone. He would have apologized for scaring everyone, apologized for his small breakdown. He would thank Myungjun and Jinwoo and offer to pay them back for their assistance. He would talk to Dongmin in an attempt to have his father working on the police force again. Things would return to _normal_ , to the way they were before.

He never thought he would have to return home with his bracelet on.

In fact, that was the one thing he promised himself he _wouldn't_ do. The moment he had embarked on his journey, Minhyuk by his side, he had decided that he would never go back if he was still marked and labeled.

He stared down at his wrist. The bracelet was accompanied by long, red cuts in his skin, making it stand out all the more, drawing the attention to his state of being, to _who_ he was. He had succeeded in little except making his status known from the start. Returning home to a normal lifestyle would be near impossible at this point. He would always have to watch where he was and who he was with. One wrong step, one wrong move, could condemn his family all over again.

And Minhyuk-

God, Minhyuk would stick with him no matter what. Minhyuk would have himself condemned, too, in order to offer support and protection.

Sanha had heard before of people attacking those who had close affiliation to magic users. Lovers were murdered, friends were torn apart, work partners were fired. Normal people suffered consequences if they chose to hang around someone who could use magic.

Minhyuk would suffer because of him.

Sanha knew what he had to do in order to save everyone – especially his own boyfriend – from a lifestyle of damnation.

He agreed to Minhyuk's suggestion. He lied completely, nodding his head and informing Minhyuk, “Yeah, I'd like to go home,” his voice nothing more than a mumble.

Minhyuk hadn't responded. Instead, he continued to wrap up Sanha's wrist, slowing whenever Sanha would grimace in pain, whispering out his own apologies. At first, Sanha wasn't sure whether or not Minhyuk heard him properly, so he tried again, louder - “We're going to go home, right?”

Minhyuk's eyes were narrowed in thought. Sanha wondered what was so important that Minhyuk would ignore an _agreement_.

“Minhyuk-”

“Hm?” Minhyuk looked up suddenly, blinking his eyes. “Oh. Home. Yes.”

He finished off cleaning and dressing the wound, but he didn't release Sanha's hand.

“Do you really mean it, Sanha? Do you really want to go home?”

It wasn't a lie to confirm the second portion of Minhyuk's question; Sanha _truly_ wanted to return back to his parents, back to the comfort of his apartment and the repetitive safety of his college courses and the quiet, relaxing aura of Minhyuk and Myungjun's bakery. So he said yes, if only to quell Minhyuk's fears and worries and concerns.

But not to the first part of the question. He didn't mean it. He didn't mean that he was going to go home.

Minhyuk fell asleep by his side, urged on by Sanha himself - “Go to bed, Hyuk. I'll still be here in the morning. I'm not leaving you.”

(Sanha didn't consider himself a liar – he just couldn't bear to tell the truth.)

And then, in the cover of the night, Sanha packed.

Minhyuk was easy enough to _keep_ asleep, Sanha realized. He was lightly snoring, face buried into the pillow and his fists curled up around the bedsheets. He shifted every so often, and Sanha would freeze, as if caught in the act. But then things would still and Sanha would continue his own preparations.

Staying with Minhyuk was practically giving him a death wish. Even if not that, even if no one went after him physically, there was still the issue with others figuring it all out, learning of their relationship, and making life _difficult_ on him. All of what Sanha thought through might have been considered worse-case scenarios, but he refused to make Minhyuk go through such a living hell for his sake.

All of the others, too. His family, his friends – they would all be subjected to the wrath of society for sheltering a magic user.

Sanha loved them all far too much to see anything bad happen to them. His father's leave from work had been difficult enough to stomach. He would stop the rest of them from suffering by whatever means necessary.

He finished packing. His fingers were shaking, and it took far more effort than it should have to actually hoist up his travel bag over his shoulder.

He had enough money for a bus ticket. Hell, he could probably hire a taxi to take him elsewhere, to a train station, and then he would be gone. He would leave no clues for Minhyuk to follow, no way to be found.

The credit card was placed aside. He only took as much cash as he might need for traveling. As he put the wallet down, settling it atop of Minhyuk's suitcase, he glanced over at his boyfriend.

_Short-lived_ _boyfriend_ , Sanha reminded himself as his eyesight became blurry with unshed tears. _The shortest-lived boyfriend in existence_.

It had been a few days since they confessed, since they kissed.

It felt like a year ago when they made flower bracelets together. Sanha wondered how long his own would stay on his hand. He wondered if, when it died, he could make a new one with similar flowers in order to pretend that Minhyuk was still there with him.

He wondered if, when _he_ died, he would be reunited with Minhyuk once again.

Did magic users go to heaven? Could they live in peace alongside normal people in death?

Sanha liked to think so. He didn't know if heaven would be worth it should he be separated from Minhyuk.

He would hold onto that hope, then. It was all he had left. A small sliver of prayers and wishes to see Minhyuk again at some point, with his wristband gone and his life comfortable.

He didn't notice he was crying for a few minutes. He didn't even notice it _had_ been a few minutes, until Minhyuk moved again in his sleep and Sanha was drawn from his thoughts, from his staring. He sniffed pathetically as he opened the door, slowly, minding the creaks from the old hinges.

He glanced back once. Minhyuk wasn't stirring.

“I love you,” he said, voice hushed and strained.

He would pretend that Minhyuk said it back to him. He would pretend that they were kissing again on the night of their confession, breathless declarations of love strung among their lips, lingering in the air for only so long before being swallowed up by more and more words.

Sanha wiped at his eyes as he hurried into the hallway, away from Minhyuk and the love he had so readily given.

His hands were still shaky as he dialed for a taxi. He waited outside, right in front of the small hotel, and gazed out at the fields before him.

It was pretty, even in the darkness of the night. The small streetlamp on the side of the road offered little light; most of it seemed to come from the stars and the moon.

Sanha wondered what space was like. He wondered if anyone thought of finding their own colony, their own little city on a planet, for magic users to live out their days in quiet and peace.

(He wondered if he could bring Minhyuk.)

The taxi pulled up and Sanha watched as the driver rolled his window down. A skeptic look was shot his way, but Sanha didn't move yet.

“Was it _you_ who called for a taxi?” the man behind the wheel asked.

Sanha nodded his head. His grip tightened on his travel bags.

“You look a little young.”

“I just need to get to a train station,” Sanha murmured, and he finally stood. “I have money. And it's just me, a-and my bags.”

He wasn't going to say much else, and he didn't expect any interjections, but one came, anyway.

It wasn't from the taxi driver.

“It's him, the bags, and then me.”

Sanha spun around, eyes widening when he saw Minhyuk standing near the front entrance, his eyes piercing and alert, quite unlike the tired, sleepy Minhyuk that laid down to rest just hours earlier.

“Minhyuk-”

“We're going to Seoul,” Minhyuk determined, with no input at all from Sanha, with no regard to Sanha's _solo_ trip plan.

“We-”

“Because I promised him we'd do it all _together_.” Though his words were still directed at the driver, Minhyuk eventually looked at Sanha, and his gaze softened. “I broke my promise once. But I won't leave him a second time.”

There was no way Sanha could argue that point, not when Minhyuk was so resolute, so _calm_ , in his decision. Sanha couldn't even question it, either, until later. Their bags were placed in the trunk and they sat side by side as the taxi went over the rolling hills of the countryside, passing small farmhouses and run-down businesses along the way.

Sanha waited and waited – Minhyuk spoke first.

“When I asked if we were going to go home, you hadn't seemed so certain.”

“It didn't mean I wanted you to come with me.”

Minhyul laughed, a barking, scathing laugh, and pointed at Sanha's hand. “I don't want you alone anymore. I don't want you by yourself.”

Sanha didn't want to make a comment on his powers and on his label, not with the driver listening in closely to their conversation. “I wasn't going to go to Seoul.”

“Where, then?”

Sanha leaned up against the window, pouting at his own reflection. “I don't know,” he admitted. “I wasn't planning that far in advance. I was going to look at a map and close my eyes and choose a spot. Wherever I chose, I'd live there. I'd live in peace and quiet and no one would _know_.”

He lowered his voice; while he doubted the driver would pick up on the actuality behind their words, he could still be tossed out if even a simple _suspicion_ arose.

“I'm a quiet person,” Minhyuk replied, “so I'd be a good fit in your new household.”

Sanha swallowed thickly. He didn't look over at the boy. “Not peaceful, though.”

“I'd learn to be, for you.”

Sanha wondered why his reflection was crying so hard. “I-I-I don't want people to hate you. I don't wa-want to see you do _that_ again, Hyuk. It scared me, it scared me so bad. I was alone, and I thought you were going to die!”

“I know.” Minhyuk seemed to be having difficulty in agreeing with Sanha, in admitting he was in the wrong. The fact that he was doing so anyway made Sanha's heart beat loudly in his chest. “And I'll work on it. I really will. I won't do that again, not to anyone, not for any reasons.” Minhyuk cleared his throat, then added, “Well, unless they hurt you. But otherwise-”

“Not even then.” Sanha felt like wailing. He wondered if it would be fine if he rolled down the window and let the wind carry away his sobbing. “Never, Minhyuk. I just want you to love me. I-I don't want you to hate people.”

It might have been hypocritical, considering Sanha's list of those he hated was growing day by day.

“I won't hate, either,” he murmured, trying to remedy his own guilty conscience. “I'll let it all go and I'll never hate anyone. I'll just love you.”

He felt Minhyuk's hand grasp onto his. He didn't shove it away. He held onto the comfort, instead, closing his eyes tightly and letting the tears continue to spill down his cheeks, letting dark spots appear in his shirt wherever they fell.

Sanha longed to be back in privacy, maybe at the hotel room, where Minhyuk could hold him in his arms and kiss his cheeks, soothing him, comforting him.

“That sounds good,” Minhyuk said. “Starting over with nothing but the love we have for each other?” He squeezed Sanha's hand once, then took a deep breath. “Cutting off contact with everyone we know?”

“I don't want to ask you to do that.” Sanha knew of the bond Myungjun and Minhyuk shared together. He would feel too terrible asking Minhyuk to ditch Myungjun. “And what about the bakery?”

“Myungjun brings in all the money,” Minhyuk responded. “And he has Jinwoo now, too. But you...you wouldn't have anyone if I didn't offer to come with you. Do you really think you can live like that, Sanha?”

“No,” Sanha croaked out, and he rubbed at his nose with his free hand. “I didn't want to leave you,” he admitted. “But I felt like I had to. What if someone tries to hurt you? What if someone comes after us? What if we can't find jobs or a house or food?”

“And what if it was just you?”

Sanha bit his lip and nodded his head slowly. Love was too powerful for Minhyuk to stay asleep; love was too powerful for Minhyuk to stay away.

All Sanha could do was embrace him selfishly, tightly, in a refusal to never again let go.

(And Minhyuk returned the sentiments tenfold.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's final - TWO more chapters! then the story will be fully complete and socky will be happy and we move onto our next account - jinwoo :O
> 
> hmu [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) with some dollar bills!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanha didn't know how fine it would be, and when they entered the office, the mustached man locked the door behind them and worked on closing all of the window blinds, shrouding the room in secrecy. Sanha felt sick to his stomach, more so when he recognized the nameplate sitting on the desk: Chief of Police.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im laughing bc the tone of this chapter is cOMPLETELY different, but i hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

“So,” the policeman mumbled as he set a file down on the desk. He tapped it with his fingers. Sanha watched with baited breath, tugging his sweater sleeve further down his wrist in an attempt to completely hide the sports band wrapped around his marking. It wouldn't bode them well if the policeman caught sight of it, especially not at _that_ particular moment.

“So,” the policeman started again, and his gaze was focused solely on Minhyuk and the young boy's unwavering stare. “This is the second time, Park Minhyuk.”

“Second time for what?” Minhyuk asked, and Sanha winced where he sat in his seat. Minhyuk had already detailed out the excuse he'd use – he didn't know it was illegal. Sanha tried to inform him that such an excuse only worked if it was the first time performing the criminal act.

The second time, it wouldn't go well.

The policeman rolled his eyes and opened the file. “Let's see – so the first time, your card was declined at a hotel and yet you hid inside of the room and barred the door. That's trespassing, so that was instance number one.”

Ah, yeah. Sanha definitely remembered that. He remembered the hotel staff knocking heavily on the door and exclaiming that they were calling the police, and he remembered panicking and trying to shove Minhyuk out of the room.

(“Are you kidding me?” Sanha cried out, “We're going to be caught and what if the police find out what's on my wrist?”

“They won't find us, because no one's getting into this room!” Minhyuk exclaimed.

The police got in ten minutes later.)

Fortunately for them, Minhyuk concocted some lie about running away and missing his family, and the policeman reviewing their case actually felt pity for them. They were let go from the station within that hour.

Sanha _thought_ Minhyuk learned his lesson, but the second time the card was declined, he did the exact same thing. And it didn't seem as if the police were going to be as lenient again.

“And now, Park Minhyuk, here we are. Same situation. You didn't think it was a bad idea?” The policeman didn't wait for a response. He simply gave a small _tsk_ and leaned back in his chair. “There's going to be proper punishment this time for you two.”

Sanha wanted to ask _why me?_ Sanha wanted to separate himself and explain that he was an innocent bystander who had simply been caught up in his boyfriend's insane antics. He didn't think the police would believe him, though; besides, he didn't want Minhyuk to suffer through the punishment alone, when the entire reason he was trespassing on property was to give Sanha a warm place to sleep for the night.

Sanha loved him so much.

“I thought Seoul was the capital of Korea,” Minhyuk complained, “and in capital cities, do tourists _want_ to see homeless children being shipped off to jail at an alarming rate? I'm pretty sure there are _thousands_ of opinion articles on this subject that we can pull from.”

“Yeah? And I'm pretty sure that you're twenty and he's nineteen. Hardly _children_.” The officer closed the file and sighed. “You were well aware of your wrong-doings the first time around, and you should have been _more_ aware the _second_ time around. I'm beginning to think, Park Minhyuk, that you're being difficult for the sake of being difficult. Is it a rebellious teenager stage? Is that it?” The policeman gestured toward Sanha. “You, too.”

( _Why me?_ Sanha wanted to ask, but he kept his mouth shut.)

“Unruly children like yourself usually have that bleached hair. Have you two run away from your parents and you're just trying to live lavishly, without the means to do so?”

“If I wanted to live lavishly, I wouldn't have chosen a hotel that has dead flies everywhere,” Minhyuk responded, always the epitome of fearlessness. Sanha both admired and hated that trait in situations like these. It would be far more useful if he actually got them out of this mess, rather than goading the officer along.

The policeman, however, didn't seem to mind the snark so much. He just shrugged his shoulders and said, “Okay, then, you ran away from your parents and decided to live _not_ so lavishly.”

“Bingo,” was Minhyuk's reply. Sanha felt like bashing his head into the table.

“And since you guys obviously have no way of paying for a fine, I'm sorry but I'll have to confine you to a night in jail.” He seemed to notice Minhyuk's composed shell finally cracking as the boy bit down on his lip, and he gave a soft smile. “It's not so bad. I'm going to separate you from the drug users in one of the cells – we've had a lot of crystal meth users recently. But they won't bug you if you're in a different cell.” He grabbed some paperwork beside him and began to fill it out. “Empty your pockets onto the desk and you can collect all of it in the morning when you leave.”

Minhyuk was less eager to do so than Sanha was, but if only because _he_ had all of the cards and money. The non-existent money, anyway. It appeared Myungjun and Jinwoo could only replenish the debit card so fast – on top of that, Minhyuk had blocked both of their numbers and hadn't spoken to them at all since they got in that taxi and made the decision to completely run away.

Sanha wondered, sometimes, if he regretted it. It had only been two weeks, and Sanha wondered if it was something Minhyuk thought about often, thought of Myungjun and Jinwoo back in their apartment, worried for his safety, confused about what had happened, watching their money slowly dwindle away as Minhyuk and Sanha traveled around Seoul.

Sanha missed his parents so desperately in these times. He figured they, too, were concerned for his well-being, as much as he wished they weren't. It would be easier if they could forget him.

He emptied his pockets out quietly, sadly, just the few things he carried in there. Most of his belongings were in his travel bag, which the officer stored behind his desk.

They were led to the cells, which didn't look nearly as dark and cold as Sanha had been picturing. Maybe he watched too many films, or maybe he read too many books, but weren't jail cells supposed to be places of filth and torture? This looked fine, though it didn't appear to have any sort of bed.

“I'll bring blankets,” the policeman assured, as if reading Sanha's mind. “And two pillows. It won't be that bad, I promise. It's better than a fine, isn't it?”

Sanha didn't know how legal it was to stick someone in jail without a proper trial, but he was afraid if he asked, then something _would_ go to trial and his life would become more messy than it already was. For the moment, he would just accept spending a night in a jail.

He waited until the officer had brought them the blankets and pillows, then he sat down on the floor, covering his knees with one of the bedsheets and staring out at the police office ahead. Minhyuk joined him after a few seconds, and they instantly leaned into each other, finding comfort in the only person who knew what they had to go through.

“Minhyuk?”

“Hm?”

“I'm scared.”

“He said it wouldn't be that bad.”

Sanha shifted in his seat and moved to rest his head on Minhyuk's shoulder. “After we get out,” he clarified. “What are we going to do? No one will hire you, a-and no one will hire me, and we can't keep relying on Myungjun to stick money into the account. He's trying to take care of himself and Jinwoo. It's not fair to him, is it?”

“It's just until I get us back on our feet.” Minhyuk brought a hand up to run through Sanha's hair, fingers softly combing into orange locks. “Once I get a job and we find a place to live and we have a steady income, I won't do it anymore.”

Sanha stayed silent, watching the proceedings before him, as officers printer paper and filed manila folders into large drawers. He felt homesick, reminded of simpler times when he would accompany his father to work, short legs swinging as he sat on the old, wooden desk and experienced such similar sights. Not for the first time, he doubted his decision to run away.

“Are we doing the right thing?” he asked quietly.  
“Even if we aren't, we've already done it,” Minhyuk pointed out, his tone nonchalant. “It's not like we can go back now and change it all, can we?”

Sanha shook his head. What was done was already done. He _could_ return home to his family, but he had already gotten this far. He wanted to remain steadfast in his decision to stay away for the sake of everyone around him.

He had to admit, it was far easier with Minhyuk by his side to prop him up.

“I'll be more aggressive in my job searching,” Minhyuk murmured.

“Don't say _aggressive_.”

“Why not? I'm not saying I'll beat anyone up if they refuse to hire me. Just that I'll look harder and try more when it comes to interviews.”

Sanha, too, wanted to get a job. He didn't want Minhyuk to do everything for him. “Can I interview, too?” he questioned. “We can earn more money if we're both working.”

“What about your bracelet?”

“If I can keep it hidden at a police station, I can keep it hidden anywhere else.”

Minhyuk didn't refute his logic. Minhyuk simply pressed a kiss to Sanha's temple and whispered, “Whatever you want, Sanha, I'll support it.”

He didn't deserve Minhyuk. Out of everyone he knew, all of the people in the world, he really didn't deserve Minhyuk. He closed his eyes and curled in closer to his boyfriend. Even if he didn't deserve Minhyuk, even if Minhyuk was better off without him, Sanha would accept the love, greedily, desperately, and hold it close to his heart in a refusal to ever let it go.

And Minhyuk always seemed to return it, tenfold.

They fell asleep like this, using each other for support, and even if it _was_ on the ground of a jail cell, it wasn't that bad of a rest.

It was only broken when he heard the cell doors open, and he blinked his eyes blearily. A man stood just outside the cell, wearing no uniform but still sporting a badge clipped to his pants. He had a mustache and a hat and when he noticed Sanha's stare, he smiled widely at him.

“Hello,” he greeted.

Sanha furrowed his eyebrows and cleared his throat. Another officer was urging him to stand up, so Sanha took a moment to shake Minhyuk awake before doing anything else. The mustached man waited for them patiently, the smile never once leaving his face, and Sanha was getting worried.

Once Minhyuk was awake, he voiced what Sanha could not: “What's going on?”

“I just wanted to talk to you two,” the mustached man explained, motioning for the boys to follow him. “It won't take up but two minutes of your time.” His eyes traveled downward, trailing down Sanha's arm, and his gaze stopped at Sanha's wrist. It was a split second, though, not even enough time for Sanha to hide his arm, before the man looked back up again and grinned. “Maybe longer, though, if I'm correct.”

Sanha swallowed thickly. “C-Correct about what?” he asked, his voice hushed, but there was no response for him. He could only shuffle along, his other hand wrapping around the wristband and clenching onto it tightly.

It looked as if that mustached man _knew_ something.

It looked as if he saw Sanha's wrist, somehow, and figured it out. It looked as if they were heading to his large office to discuss the bracelet and Sanha's magic user status.

His heart beat fast in his chest. He felt sick, suddenly, wobbly on his feet, and he grabbed onto Minhyuk for support. Minhyuk must have instantly recognized Sanha's fear; the widening of his eyes, the shortened breathing, the pale complexion, and he stopped in his tracks, pulling Sanha with him. “Where are we going?” he demanded.

The mustached man looked back and shrugged. “My office,” he responded. “It's just down this hallway. Again, we won't be in there for too long and then you guys can go home.”

“What's the reason?” Minhyuk questioned again, a refusal to move unless he properly determined what was going on. At least, that was how Sanha saw it, though he worried the reluctance to comply with an officer's wishes would result in further scrutiny. What if the mustached man examined Sanha's hand? What if he got pissed and told everyone else that Sanha was a magic user?

“Minhyuk,” Sanha whispered, “let's just go. He said we could leave after two minutes.”

“Not until he tells me _why_ we're meeting with him,” Minhyuk snapped.

The mustached man laughed, causing both boys to stare over at him in confusion. “I like the distrust,” he commented toward Minhyuk. “It's always good to ask questions. But I just wanted to make a few things clear, mostly concerning someone you might know. Though I _could_ be completely mistaken.” He smiled and held his hands behind his back. “Yoon Sanha, right?”

Sanha slowly nodded his head. “How did you-?”

“It's on the document. I noticed you and Park Minhyuk have been here twice for the same thing.”

“We've already been in jail-” Minhyk started, but the mustached man cut him off with a wave.

“I'm not punishing you any farther. I just wanted to know – did you two come from Boryeong?”

Sanha felt his heart skip a beat now, and even Minhyuk beside him stiffened. They hadn't written down the city they lived in. Nothing about it had been brought up at all. It didn't make sense, then, how a random officer seemed to know about their place of origin.

Without a proper reply, the mustached man seemed to understand he was correct, and he gestured for the two to keep following him. “And since I'm right, it'll probably take about ten minutes of your time. Come on.”

Sanha didn't _want_ to follow the officer, but it wasn't as if he had much of a choice, did he? There were policemen everywhere in the station – if he ran, it would be a simple matter for the mustached man to order someone to catch him.

Minhyuk was the one who moved first, though, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed as he tugged Sanha down the hallway. “It'll be fine, Sanha,” he whispered, ensuring the mustached man couldn't hear them. “Perfectly fine.”

But Sanha didn't _know_ how fine it would be, and when they entered the office, the mustached man locked the door behind them and worked on closing all of the window blinds, shrouding the room in secrecy. Sanha felt sick to his stomach, more so when he recognized the nameplate sitting on the desk.

_Chief of Police_.

“Oh, god,” he murmured, and he released Minhyuk in order to hold onto his arm with the wristband once again. “Y-You're a _chief?_ ”

“I should have probably introduced myself,” the chief replies, “but it was more mysterious this way, wasn't it?”

Sanha's eyes darted to the door, but the chief seemed to catch on. He laughed and sat down at his desk. “I would rather you not run away right now. Just take a seat. I'll talk for five seconds, and then we can figure this out, okay?”

Sanha _wanted_ to run. Running could save him. But, then again, running could also condemn him or make him more suspicious. If the chief was going to mention his bracelet, Sanha would rather he mention it in the privacy of the room, rather than out with all the other policemen.

So he took a seat, and Minhyuk, gnawing at his lip, followed, sitting beside Sanha and putting a hand protectively over Sanha's knee.

Once settled, the chief leaned back and asked, “You two know Lee Dongmin, right?” When he received nothing but blank stares, he sighed. “Tall, dashing, really smart? Absolutely in love with Moon Bin?”

Sanha nodded. “Wha-What does that have to do with _us_? How do _you_ know them?”

“Oh, they used to work here. They transferred from here, you know, since they had to go kill a witch in Boryeong. And I'm assuming that went well enough, hm?” The chief glanced at Minhyuk, then back at Sanha. “Though Dongmin informed me that _you_ had a hand in that, Yoon Sanha.”

Sanha was confused. “I didn't kill a witch.”

“No. Thank goodness, because according to Dongmin, he's harmless.” The chief scratched at his mustache and then mumbled, “And, according to Dongmin, you're harmless, as well, which isn't very fair on you, is it?”

Sanha didn't know how to reply, and he shifted in his seat. “I'm...I-I'm not following along,” he admitted. Minhyuk's hand lightly squeezed his knee, shushing him for the time being.

“So you know Dongmin?” Minhyuk asked. “And you knew that Sanha put drugs in a kid's backpack?”

“Minhyuk!” Sanha squeaked, but the chief didn't seem mad. He just laughed.

“Who do you think supplied the drugs?” the chief retorted.

Sanha _did_ recall Dongmin mentioning that the Gangnam District Police Chief was the one who gave him the drugs to enact revenge on the boys who killed Jinwoo. Didn't that imply that the chief was on his side, then? Didn't that imply that the chief was willing to risk himself to protect magic users? Sanha wondered if he knew Dongmin was a magic user. Sanha wondered if he knew Dongmin was friends with _other_ magic users.

“What do you want with us, then?” Minhyuk spoke again. “We haven't done anything except trespass. We'll serve our time in jail for the night, and then we'll leave and we won't cause anymore issues.”

“I don't think Yoon Sanha wants to leave with that label on his wrist,” the chief pointed out.

Sanha's eyes widened. “Y-You knew?”

“Dongmin told me,” the chief responded. “He asked for help finding witches who could take off those labels, for his friend Sanha, and I gave him that list.” The chief glanced over at Minhyuk. “I'm assuming none of them helped?”

Once more, the lack of an answer seemed to be enough for the chief to gather what information he needed. He sighed loudly, heavily, and stood from his seat, moving over to Sanha. “Let me look.”

“I don't want-”

“Yoon Sanha, I promise I won't do anything bad. I won't show anyone. That's why we're in my office and not out there. Just let me look.”

His voice was calming enough, and Minhyuk's grip on Sanha's knee loosened. “Sanha, just show him,” Minhyuk whispered. “It's not like he can do anything that hasn't been done already.”

Sanha bit his lip and nodded his head. With Minhyuk's assurance, he moved his wristband away. The label was still bright red, the words _magic user_ spelled out mockingly. Now, though, it was accompanied by scars and marks, the leftover of Sanha's breakdown in that hotel bathroom.

The chief didn't mention the wounds. Instead, he held a hand up to the label, muttering something under his breath and closing his eyes.

There was a light glow from his fingers, a small light surrounding Sanha's wrist-

“What are you doing?” Minhyuk snapped, and he tried to jerk Sanha away. The chief grabbed onto Sanha, though, holding him in place, and finishing his muttered nonsense. The light died down from his fingers, and he tightened his hold on Sanha's wrist.

It lasted a few seconds. It wasn't long at all before the chief pulled his hand back. “There,” he announced, patting Sanha's wrist.

Sanha looked down.

He could see the wristband, still pushed down his arm. He could see the scars, still ugly and fresh, scored across skin.

But there was no bracelet. There was no red marking. There was no label detailing his magic user status to the rest of the world.

Sanha stared at his arm with wide eyes. He heard Minhyuk scramble to his feet beside him, and he could feel the older boy's presence hovering over his shoulder, gasping at the bare skin.

“What the fuck?” Minhyuk breathed. “Y-You...took it off?”

Sanha felt around at his wrist, wondering if it was a trick of some sort, trying to figure out just what exactly had happened.

Only witches could remove the bracelet.

Sanha glanced up in shock. “You're a wi-”

“Shh.” The chief held a finger up to his lips, that same smile still plastered on his face. “Not too loud. And let's not throw around magic user accusations. It looks as if, at the moment, neither of us have any sort of special, magical powers. Isn't that correct?” Before Sanha could answer, the chief continued, “And _certainly_ I don't think this is something Dongmin needs to hear of. I have a reputation to keep up, after all.”

He _was_ a witch, then. If it was something he was trying to keep hidden, he must have been an actual witch. Sanha ran a finger over his wrist, bumping it into his scars, marveling at the bare skin he found, still trying to accept that he was no longer marked as a magic user.

He was no longer marked.

Tears sprung to his eyes and he choked back a sob. He felt Minhyuk leaning into him, holding onto him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and with a watery gaze, Sanha glanced over at him. “Mi-Minhyuk-”

“I know.”

“I'm...I'm _normal_.”

Minhyuk's smile was faltering, his chin quivering, and he nodded his head quickly.

Sanha's eyes then turned to the chief, who's smile had turned fond and welcoming. “How can I ever thank you enou-nough?” Sanha stammered out, and he bowed deeply, pulling Minhyuk down with him.

“If you wanted to thank me, you two would clean your faces and leave like nothing happened. And Dongmin would _never_ know.” The chief pushed Sanha back up and gestured to the door. “Oh, and stop trespassing in hotel rooms. My men have enough to worry about without kids pushing furniture up against hotel doors and threatening to pour coffee all over the carpet.”

Minhyuk looked sheepish as he wiped his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he responded, the first polite reply Sanha had heard him give all day at the station. “Come on, Sanha.”

“Right.”

Sanha moved, following Minhyuk, but he glanced back once more, catching the chief's stare and making him grin.

“Don't tell Dongmin,” was the last thing he heard the chief say before they exited the office and closed the door behind them.

Sanha felt like cheering. He wanted to yell, to scream, to show off his bared wrist to the world. But there were other officers around, going about their daily business, and Sanha decided not to draw attention to himself.

He trailed beside Minhyuk down the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest just as it had when they arrived, though for a different reason this time. “Minhyuk,” he whispered, “he really likes Dongmin.”

Minhyuk kept walking.

“Is Dongmin really that great?”

Minhyuk didn't stop.

“Did this all just really happen?”

Minhyuk grabbed his arm and tugged him along even faster. They picked up their supplies from one of the officers, hoisting bags up on their shoulders, putting wallets back in their pockets, and then they were outside.

The streets were busy and loud, and Minhyuk took the opportunity to yell, “We did it!”

Sanha gave a start with the sudden noise, and then Minhyuk wrapped his arms around Sanha, pulling him into a deep embrace. “It's off!” he exclaimed. “Oh, god, Sanha, it's _off!_ ”

His enthusiasm was contagious, and Sanha laughed wildly, planting a large kiss on Minhyuk's forehead and burying his nose into Minhyuk's neck. He could feel his own tears again, rolling down his cheeks, smearing on Minhyuk's skin, but neither of them seemed to care.

“We can go home,” Minhyuk said, “you can see your parents again. I can work, Myungjun and Jinwoo won't have to worry, no one will _know_ what happened, about your wrist, Sanha, it's going to be okay from now on.”

And it would be. With Minhyuk by his side and with his wrist now available for the world to see, he was finally _normal_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:O
> 
> i would never forget about the chief, yall, i love gangnam district police chief.
> 
> we have one more chapter!!!! and then the wild ride of shifter will have finally come to an end! hit me up with dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) to replenish my bank account after astro comeback.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'd stick by your side even if you were normal and boring. I'd stick by your side even if I had to face off against a thousand witches.” Minhyuk plastered himself against Sanha and smirked. “But, you know, let's be weird and different, you stupid shifter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnd so it ends, enjoy the ride my dudes

Sanha wondered if they had chosen the slowest bus in the entire world to ride. It definitely felt that way, as it traversed calmly down the roads, oblivious to Sanha's excitement and his giddiness, oblivious, also, to Minhyuk's constant grinning and the small kisses he would place on Sanha's cheek when no one at all was looking their way.

They had done it.

Somehow, some way, they had _done it_.

The journey had been so difficult, and Sanha regretted many of the actions they had taken. He thought of that, especially, when he had helped Minhyuk change his bandage again, the ugly scarring on his chest a prominent mark against his otherwise tanned skin. His movements had slowed at that moment, despite his pure joy at being free from his label, as he realized what had happened to _Minhyuk_.

He was wounded by a witch, he was forced to discover his father's rotting corpse, he was the only link between Sanha and Sanity – and, yet, he hardly complained the entire way. He took the punches and the blows regally, brushing them aside in order to put all of his focus, all of his love and attention, solely on Sanha.

When Minhyuk had noticed his hands had stilled, he murmured, “Sanha? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.”

But it wasn't, and Minhyuk could obviously tell. He stared at Sanha's quivering chin before whispering, “Oh, god, Sanha,” and drawing him into a hug. Sanha fell into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Minhyuk's bare back, and sniffled into his shoulder. Minhyuk smelled strongly of sweat, dirty and unkempt, but also of the medicinal ointment Sanha had lathered onto his cut and of hotel shampoo and the alcohol that still lingered on his breath, something he had managed to sneak in to their room after realizing Myungjun had deposited more funds into his account. “Sanha, shh,” Minhyuk whispered, and he ran a hand through Sanha's hair. “It's alright, Sanha.”

Sanha felt his throat constrict, and he choked out, “I-I-I'm so sorry, f-for dragging y-you through-”

“I've told you a million times before, and I'll tell you again – you didn't drag me into anything. I chose this, okay? I accepted whatever was going to come.” He pulled Sanha all the closer, clinging onto his clothes. “Never, _ever_ think that any of this was because of you.”

“But it was!” Sanha exclaimed, denying Minhyuk's kind words and shaking his head. “If I didn't ha-have that bracelet on my wrist, or if I wasn't a ma-magic user, then-”

Minhyuk shushed him again, giving him a soft kiss this time, before pulling his head away lightly and staring at him. His gaze was intense, and yet warm. Sanha fell in love with him over and over again, with each passing moment. He wondered if he would ever stop falling in love with Minhyuk.

He hoped not.

“You know what we can't ever change?” Minhyuk asked, his voice hushed. Sanha shook his head in reply, and awaited Minhyuk's answer. “The past. It happened. You were born a magic user, and I wouldn't have you any other way. You got that bracelet put on your wrist, but we've managed to get it off. I got hurt, we both...we both saw and _did_ stuff that we probably...were better off without.” As he spoke, Minhyuk rubbed a thumb down Sanha's arm. He let it linger on the wristband, still bound around Sanha's skin, blocking out his own scars from view. He didn't wear them as proudly as Minhyuk wore his; Minhyuk's came from heroic deeds, and Sanha's came from shame and fear. He couldn't ever be proud of what he had done to himself in a desperate panic.

“But it's over now, isn't it?”

Sanha bit down on his lip, fear still gripping tightly at his heart. “No,” he muttered, “because I'll always be a magic user, Minhyuk. I've seen h-how other magic users live.”

“And so have I.” Minhyuk gave him a smirk before releasing the hold on his wrist, moving his hands up instead to cup Sanha's cheeks. “And I have two of the _worst_ magic users possible hanging out in an apartment with me. I work with them. I eat with them. I watch movies with them. And do you know what they do?” He didn't wait for a reply. “They make a mess in the apartment. They spill soil everywhere. And when I ask them to clean up, they laugh and giggle, or else they make a fuss and complain. They burn their food sometimes; other times, they create lavish meals. They spoil movies before I get the chance to see them, and if they manage not to spoil it, they look up online to make sure no animals die.” Minhyuk squeezed Sanha's cheeks, pursing his lips together, and giggled, the soju on his breath fanning out across Sanha's face. “They're so disgustingly _human_. A witch and a necromancer. They kiss and argue and dance and sleep. And you, Sanha...you're human, too. I've learned just how human you are.” He pressed his lips up against Sanha's, briefly, and whispered to him, “You'll be fine. We've gotten through all of this, so we'll get through whatever else comes our way, and all the while, we'll be normal humans, like everyone else.”

It was a weird time to get comforting advice; Minhyuk's shirt was discarded somewhere, and his wound was half-wrapped. Empty bottles of alcohol lined the desk nearby, consumed mostly by Minhyuk, choked down somewhat by Sanha. The television was playing, static blocking out the sounds of whatever late-night show was on, and Minhyuk, possibly drunk but still so in love, gently pet Sanha's hair and straightened out his clothes.

Sanha teared up again. He would blame the beer Minhyuk offered him, or maybe it was the flavored soju he had forced himself to down – maybe it was both. Or, more likely than not, it was simply relief that all of his efforts, the difficult journey he had to endure, hadn't been in vain. It was pride that now he could return with no label on his arm, with no warning sign displayed for strangers to stare at. He wouldn't harm his family, or his friends.

He wouldn't harm _Minhyuk_. Not anymore.

“I-I need to finish,” he sobbed, trying to reach for the bandage. “Hold still.”

Minhyuk deposited the end of the gauze in Sanha's hand with a small giggle. And, fueled by the atmosphere and simply how perfect his boyfriend was, Sanha kissed him once before accepting the bandage.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and as he struggled to keep his crying down to a minimum, he finished his task in redressing the wound, ready for it to heal, ready for things to go back the way they were before.

But, he decided, hours later as they sat on the bus to take them home, he didn't think he would want _that_ , either. Back then, Minhyuk was an acquaintance; hardly even a friend, really. Back then, Sanha's identity was hidden, and Myungjun's identity was hidden, and Jinwoo was just some guy who had randomly moved into their apartment. Sanha tip-toed around everyone, certain that people would hate him if his status was ever revealed, certain that he would no longer have friends.

It seemed, though, that his bonds with the others were now stronger than he could have ever hoped. Myungjun and Jinwoo had doted over him, Dongmin and Bin had appeared in his life, and _Minhyuk_ -

God, Minhyuk loved him.

Sanha glanced at the beautiful, amazing boy in the seat beside him. Minhyuk was staring out the window, his hand gripping onto his phone tightly in anticipation, his eyes sparkling as he began to notice the familiar sights along the route home.

“Should we call them?” Sanha asked, and Minhyuk knew instantly who he was referring to; everyone and anyone they had left behind when they both departed for their journey.

Minhyuk stared down at his phone for a few seconds before biting at his lip. “Let's not,” he muttered. “We can meet up with Jinwoo and Myungjun at the bakery, since that's on the way home, and – I mean, if _you_ wanna call _your_ parents, you definitely can.”

But Sanha didn't know if he could take their disappointment twice. They would fuss at him, probably, over the phone; and then, when he met with them, their eyes would show their lack of trust and betrayal. He would rather have it all in one package, and so he shook his head. He didn't need to expand on it, either; Minhyuk seemed to understand, if his own nod was anything to go by, and then he leaned into Sanha and sighed happily.

“Myungjun will be pissed.”

“No more so than my parents.”

“Are you kidding me? Your parents will be fine. They'll understand. But, remember, we've been using all of Myungjun's money for a long time, and Jinwoo can't probably reproduce _that_ much for us.”

Sanha scrunched up his nose, making certain no one else on the near-empty bus would overhear their conversation. “I can't believe that Jinwoo can just _make_ money like that. Has he always been able to do it?”

“Mm, I don't think so. It was a more recent thing, he told me. He said that he didn't use magic that much when he was younger.”

Sanha could definitely relate; he tried to shift very rarely, and the only times he did, other than with Minhyuk, was because of extreme emotional changes that he was unable to keep under control. He wondered if Jinwoo and Myungjun were the same way.

“So...so Myungjun will be pissed?”

“Yup.”

Sanha grabbed onto Minhyuk's hand, enveloping their fingers together. “We don't have to tell them everything, do we?” he asked quietly, his words betraying his insecurity. “Can...can we leave out, um, what _I_ did t-to my wrist, and...and also maybe how we went to the police station because of what we did in Seoul, and the chief...and, um, anything else you think we should leave out?”

Minhyuk's grip tightened on Sanha's hand, and he smiled. “We're not obligated to tell them a thing,” he murmured. “If you want to, you can, but...but I won't say anything at all unless _you_ do, okay?”

“Are you sure? Because you and Myungjun are close-”

“It doesn't matter.”

“You used up all of his money.”

“Sanha, he'll understand. He won't force me to tell. And if he _tries_ forcing me, Jinwoo will stop him, because Jinwoo will _definitely_ understand the desire to keep certain things secret.” He placed a kiss on Sanha's cheek, then rubbed it in gently with his free hand. “It will be fine.”

Sanha tried telling that to himself as they departed from the bus, back in Boryeong. He still couldn't help the nerves that overtook his body as he remembered Myungjun's heartbroken face when Minhyuk decided to go, or the tears his mother shed as she embraced him tightly, or the lack of a police badge on his father's work uniform. Would it really be okay to return to all of these people and expect to be readily accepted?

Regardless, he had Minhyuk by his side. Minhyuk was strong in determination, his eyes set forward as they began to walk down the street. Sanha held both luggage bags, not wishing for Minhyuk to strain himself, but the older boy kept a tight hold of Sanha's elbow, anyway, ensuring that he wasn't struggling _too_ much.

“Maybe we should call Myungjun first,” Sanha whispered as the bakery came into sight. “So he won't get a shock.”

“He'll scream at me over the phone if I do. Jinwoo _should_ be helping him with the actual baking right now, and if Jinwoo's there, I'll have a shield to use.”

Sanha really couldn't dispute that logic, honestly, knowing just how Myungjun was, but he still gnawed at his lip anyway as they entered the bakery.

It was early in the day, and a few people were in line, getting something to take out. Jinwoo caught Minhyuk's eye as they stationed themselves at the back of the small crowd, and he looked shocked. Minhyuk simply smiled and waved, a gesture for him to continue working, and Sanha couldn't help but wonder where _Myungjun_ was for the reunion. Wasn't he the owner?

The customers left, and Jinwoo was quick to rush to the door, flipping around his _Open_ sign to close the shop.

“Oh, _god_ , Minhyuk!” he hissed, reaching over and dragging Minhyuk away from the windows and closer to the counter. “What the hell happened? One minute you were calling and texting, and then – then you just _stopped!_ And we had no idea what had happened! Did you _seriously_ block my number?”

Minhyuk smiled sheepishly. “Well, um, we ran into a bit of a problem-”

“You weren't _supposed_ to go to Seoul! That wasn't the original plan, was it?”

“We modified the plan. Things screwed up, but we fixed it.”

Jinwoo still scowled, and he released Minhyuk to focus his attention on Sanha. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice far calmer, his demeanor less threatening. “Did you...did you get it off?”

Sanha wrapped an arm around his wristband and smiled softly. “I did,” he murmured. He didn't yet want to take off what he had used to keep his label hidden, though. Maybe later he would. Maybe he would give it back to Minhyuk one day. But for now, he would allow it to live on his wrist, as it had been doing for weeks.

“What screwed up, then?” Jinwoo asked, and his question was directed more towards Sanha than it was to Minhyuk. However, when Sanha hesitated, Minhyuk stepped in.

“Do you mind if it's something we keep between ourselves?” He cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders. “What's done is done and...and I think we'd both like to move on.”

Jinwoo raised his eyebrows. “Did you break he law?” he whispered.

“You're the one who illegally made more money, weren't you?” was Minhyuk's retort.

Jinwoo scoffed and straightened up before glancing at the back door. “He's going to be pissed.” His thoughts echoed exactly what Minhyuk had told Sanha just an hour earlier. “And exhausted. Minhyuk, you're seriously going to make me deal with a tired, angry Myungjun?”

“Is he working?”

“Yeah. A big dog, too.” Jinwoo sighed, leaning up against the counter. “I mean, maybe the exhaustion will stop him from punching you in the throat. And, honestly, _I_ wouldn't stop him. I think you deserve it, for stealing his money and making him worry.”

Minhyuk swallowed thickly; Sanha noted the sudden regret in his gaze as he glanced down at the wooden floor beneath his feet, the slight shuffling he gave, and the tense posture. Sanha moved closer, a hand wrapping around Minhyuk's waist, trying to comfort him with no words.

“Oh,” Jinwoo said, and Sanha glanced back at him. “So, um...you two?”

“Yeah.” Sanha was quick to respond, and he smiled brightly as he held up Minhyuk's hand. “We kissed each other, Jinwoo!”

He could tell that Jinwoo was about to laugh, his cheeks turning up and his smile wide, but the back door opened just then. A man with a large dog came through, proclaiming his thanks and bowing to whoever was still in the room. He bowed to Jinwoo, as well, and then to each of the two younger boys, his eyes prickling with tears. Jinwoo bid him farewell, then took a deep breath as Myungjun's customer retreated from the bakery.

“We'll tell him now,” Jinwoo whispered, motioning the other two boys forward. “He'll be tired, so we might get away from him with no injuries.”

Minhyuk gave Sanha's back a small pat as they followed Jinwoo into the room.

Sanha had never been back there, and he looked around, a little disappointed that it wasn't as magical as he thought. It was tiny, a laptop perched on a messy desk nearby, and a table in the middle of the room, two chairs situated on either side. He recognized a few plants scattered around the floor of the room, and he wondered if they were Myungjun's or Jinwoo's. Though he also supposed it didn't matter; Myungjun and Jinwoo seemed really close, and so it was probable that whatever was one's possession was instantly the other's.

He hoped for a relationship similar to what they shared.

“Myungjun, baby,” Jinwoo cooed. Myungjun looked as if he was resting, his head nestled into his arms, as he hunched over on the table. He whined when Jinwoo spoke, but he made no movement. Jinwoo knelt down to his level and placed a kiss on the only portion of Myungjun's face that was still visible. “We have guests, Myungjunnie.”

Myungjun leaned into Jinwoo, plastering himself against Jinwoo's chest. Jinwoo's arms were ready, holding onto him lightly. Sanha hoped they would stay that way, because it seemed as if Jinwoo had fantastic restraint on him right then.

Myungjun's eyes were squeezed shut, and he gripped at Jinwoo's arms. “Can't do anymore right now,” he murmured. “Did too much today.”

“Luckily, it isn't about necromancy.” Jinwoo kissed his cheek. “They're here to see you.”

Myungjun sighed before his eyes fluttered open. The sleepiness vanished the moment he was able to focus in on the two boys, replaced with shock and relief and fear.

Nothing was said. The silence was deafening, and Minhyuk appeared to think so, too. He cleared his throat and waved nervously. “Hey, Myungjun.”

Sanha offered nothing but a small smile.

Finally, after the minute stretched on, Myungjun pulled himself out of Jinwoo's grasp. “You-” he snapped, narrowing his gaze in on Minhyuk, “-fucking _scumbag-_ ”

“I have an explanation,” Minhyuk assured, backing up (and leaving Sanha behind – though, he thought, it looked more as if Minhyuk would be the sole punching bag). “Things got rough, we both did stuff we shouldn't have done, and then I guess I panicked and-”

“You didn't _call_. You didn't _text_. You just used all of my money – you _told me_ you wouldn't leave me in the dark, Minhyuk.” He stood from his seat, knees wobbling, and Jinwoo grasped onto his elbows. “And what the hell did you do?”

“Exactly what I said I wouldn't do,” Minhyuk responded.

Sanha didn't know why he sounded so nonchalant about it. He turned and smacked his boyfriend's shoulder. “Minhyuk!” he hissed. “Don't piss him off even _more!_ ”

“Stay out of this, Sanha,” Myungjun snapped, but Jinwoo stepped in between the three boys before anything further could happen. Myungjun was forced to lean up against him, breath coming out in heavy pants from anger and a complete lack of energy. “Jinwoo, _move_ , I'm going to kill him-”

Jinwoo shushed him gently, with a simple, pointed look. “Sanha's bracelet is off,” he said, “And they're back in one piece. Minhyuk will work hard to replace the money he stole – yeah, Minhyuk, the money you _stole_ – and Sanha's going to go be reunited with his parents. Isn't that enough?”

Myungjun's fingers curled around the sleeve of Jinwoo's shirt, and, suddenly, he didn't look as tough anymore. “He told me he wouldn't do that,” he whispered. “Before he left, when it was just us two, he _promised_ me.” His chin quivered, and he bit harshly down on his lip. “Minhyuk-”

Once more, Jinwoo quieted him down, but he glanced over at Minhyuk and Sanha. “Let's let them go right now,” he murmured to his boyfriend. “Let's let them go home and settle down and let Sanha go see his parents, and then we can figure this all out, alright?”

Myungjun didn't look very satisfied, but his grip on Jinwoo's shirt did loosen a little bit. Jinwoo lowered him back into his chair, and Myungjun broke the eye contact he had made with Minhyuk, who was beginning to look guilty.

“I'll tell you guys what happened, I promise. But, um...Sanha and I need some time, alright?” the boy asked.

Surprisingly, it was Myungjun who nodded his head first in agreement. “We'll meet in my apartment when the bakery closes, then?”

“Of course,” Minhyuk assured.

“Good. I can beat the shit out of you there.” He lay his head back down on the table, groaning into his arms. “Glad you're back, Sanha. Glad you're okay. God, you two are my sweet babies.”

“He's tired,” Jinwoo explained, pulling up the chair to sit next to him.

Myungjun, once more, leaned into Jinwoo's chest. “And I'll puke on your face if you don't get out of my shop, Minhyuk.”

“ _Our_ shop,” was Minhyuk's retort, but he bowed, anyway, and muttered, “Sorry, Myungjun. I'll make it up to you. Promise. Sanha didn't do anything, though, so please try not to blame him.”

“I wouldn't even _think_ of blaming Sanha of anything. He's perfect. God forbid he becomes like you later in his life. Jinwoo, make sure that Minhyuk doesn't influence him, alright? Sanha is heaven's gift to this planet.”

Jinwoo rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through Myungjun's matted hair. “Sure, babe.”

He waved them off as he lulled Myungjun to sleep, though he did whisper out, “Minhyuk, you're in trouble, alright?”

Sanha had gathered that much, though. He knew that what they had done wasn't exactly savory. He knew they had caused everyone so much worry and pain. It would be a wonder, really, if they _weren't_ punished. Whatever Jinwoo and Myungjun had in store, whatever his parents had in store, would be welcomed, because Sanha decided that at least it meant they _cared_. Myungjun and Jinwoo had missed Minhyuk; maybe his parents, too, had missed _him_.

The sun was still high in the sky, shining down brightly on Sanha and Minhyuk as they walked down the path. It was familiar, a memory that Sanha had been willing to push from his mind so as to not feel regret for what his decision had been. He had been so prepared to leave everything that he loved, _everyone_ he loved, far behind him, to live forever on the run, to drag Minhyuk into such a mess with him.

Fortunately, fate seemed to have far different plans, and Sanha latched onto Minhyuk as they turned a corner, a small smile coming across his face.

“I thought we would just stay in Seoul forever,” Sanha murmured. “Boarding up stupid hotel rooms and getting drunk in the middle of the night.”

Minhyuk laughed and swung their hands. “Do you want to go back?”

“Nope. I sort of hated that jail cell, and if _you_ were in charge of our lifestyle, I bet I'd have to get used to that.”

“Oh, come on. I would have gotten a job at some point,” Minhyuk complained. He hummed lightly, his eyes scanning from Sanha's face down to his wrist. “Sanha-”

“No. Don't tell me you want it back.” Sanha tore his hand away from Minhyuk and held it close to his chest with a pout. “I want this wristband, Hyuk, alright? I'm going to keep it. Like when boyfriends give their girlfriends their jacket – give me your wristband, okay?”

Minhyuk gave a small snort, and he ran a finger over the fabric. “I didn't want it back,” he responded. “It looks better on you. It's like a little piece of me is on you.” His finger hooked under it, but it wasn't removed. He slowed down his walking pace. “It _is_ just like when boyfriends give their girlfriends their jacket. It's normal as fuck.”

Sanha wrinkled his nose at the profanity that easily fell from Minhyuk's mouth. “I wouldn't use _that_ word to describe it.”

“You wouldn't use that word at all.”

Ignoring the little quip, Sanha just said, “Besides, we're not normal.”

“What was the point of my drunken speech from last night if you'll just toss it out the window, Sanha?”

“As much as you say we're all normal, we aren't. Dongmin-hyung and Bin-hyung are with the law enforcement and they're framing people for drug use, and _that's_ not normal. And Myungjun-hyung and Jinwoo-hyung are holding secret necromancy sessions in their bakery, and _that's_ not normal. And you're trying to fight off witches with scissors. That's _really_ not normal.”

Minhyuk seemed ready to retort Sanha's logic, but Sanha quieted him with a well-timed kiss, capturing soft, plump lips within his own. It was chaste, over far too soon, but at least Minhyuk wasn't going to argue for the time being.

“Also, you're dating a shifter. So it isn't _normal_ as...as, um, you know.”

“Wow. You really don't-”

“It's _weird_ and different and I like our relationship better like that, Hyuk. I like being weird and different, since it means you'll stick by my side no matter what.”

“I'd stick by your side even if you were normal and boring. I'd stick by your side even if I had to face off against a thousand witches.” He plastered himself against Sanha and smirked. “But, you know, let's be weird and different, you stupid shifter.”

“And let's stay away from any witch that isn't Jinwoo.”

His words made Minhyuk laugh, bright and joyful, something that they had been _missing_ for a while in their relationship. And things would go back to normal, once their explanations were delivered to friends and family. Sanha would return to school, Minhyuk would return to work. They would go to their own separate apartments at night, never minding the fact that they slept so close, side-by-side, kissing each other and holding each other on the nights after they had confessed. They would no longer be moving constantly. They would no longer fear for their safety. It would be _normal_.

Well, as normal as life for a shifter could be. Which, Sanha decided, kissing Minhyuk once more, wasn't very normal at all, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not completely satisfied with the ending for some reason, but I don't know how else to change it, except completely overhauling it and rewriting it all, which i would definitely procrastinate on bc i hate redoing things, which means i would probably never finish shifter. SO HOPEFULLY THIS SUFFICES???
> 
> it's been a great journey, tho! i've really really loved writing it, and im so proud of the positive response each chapter has been given. I think this one is my most second-read fic, right behind _elementary_ (will anything ever beat that one???? it'd better be a myungjin, i cant be known as a BINU fanfic author, smh). it feels a littler bittersweet ending this fic, but please don't view it as the end of the witchcraft series! i already have a myungjin sequel in the works - maybe five or six chapters have been written, so i'll start posting that sometime within the month (i want to get it mostly all written out first before doing anything). we won't say goodbye to socky, either! they'll be in the sequel, and as per usual, i'll probably post up a lot of little oneshots and drabbles in this universe here and there. it's too fun to leave alone.
> 
> thank you to everyone who stuck with me through it all, and i'll catch you with the next installment! <3 
> 
> hmu [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) to cry with me over the ending lol!


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